Sparks Fly
by Zeraphie
Summary: After returning to the human world, Yami has one month to find seven things about Yugi Mutou he loves and make Yugi fall in love with him. If he fails, he may never step foot in the human world again. Unfortunately, Yugi seems to hate his guts. YxYY
1. Chapter 1

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_**one.**_

**--**

"So…you're back."

"Yes."

"And…you're staying."

"If you will let me."

"And…you're not leaving any time soon."

Yami's eyes tore away from the meal made by one Mister Sugoroku Mutou. Momentarily, they flickered, the violet allure glistening under the lustrous red orbs; remnants of who he was in his past life. At the sudden word he shivered, the gold string laced around his wrist daintily glowing with pride. A smile strewed across his lips and he cast a weary glance. "I really want to stay, if you will let me, aibou."

His other half studied him for a moment, eyes narrowing at Yami's form. It was another chance to sneak a peek at what his light had come to be; how much he had grown in only eleven months. Hard to believe, he wryly thought, that Yugi once did not come past his waist. His partner had grown; something he clearly overlooked while fending off from evil.

They were the same height. At least…close to the same height. Yugi's legs had grown long and slim from their days together and the small sixteen-year-old was now as tall as he—five-foot, six.

"I…I dunno." Yugi shrugged, burying his face into the cereal. "It's up to Grandpa."

"Alright, aibou." Yami smiled, reaching across the table and slipping a hand to Yugi's bare shoulder. His bracelet delicately chimed and he looked at it, burning holes into to his wrist bone as he expected something to happen. Nothing.

"You can let go now."

"Oh. Uh, right." He pulled away, dark eyes curiously devouring the image of Yugi as his other self meticulously began his daily routine. Dabble with the spoon. Eat two bundles of Cocoa Puffs. Swallow—_slowly_. Eyes wander to the bowl, prying apart all that concocts the milk and wheat. Lips part, hesitant to mutter the thoughts at his tongue before closing again, fervent blush across his delicate face. That was the "routine" made by Yugi Mutou.

"Is there something on my face?"

"What?" Yami blinked away the observations that'd come to be over years of knowing his light's habits because, quite honestly…Yugi had done none of it. There was no worry, no overbearing threat that was often shrugged away as a passive notion. There was no blush…not even a little pink.

"You keep staring at me." Yugi steadily eyed him; one brow arched suspiciously as he uncomfortably shifted in the seat and failed to be discreet as he lightly scooted away from his other self.

A little hurt, Yami smiled anyway, his fingers fiddling with the gold bracelet and its several blank charms. "I'm sorry. I'm just happy that I can see you after all this time."

Yugi blinked, slowly slipping his metal spoon between his lips before looking away and mixing it through his milk. "Please. It really hasn't been that long."

"Ten months and fifteen days since the ceremonial duel, aibou. I'm pretty sure that counts as more than just a little time." An amused smirk laced across Yami's lips and he pulled a bang out of his face. It had been the only shard of time he was allowed to count. Time did not pass in the afterlife; just the occasional new land that would enter in certain planes whether they be the pits of hell or heaven.

"Are those the only clothes you brought with you?"

"They are the same clothes I wore right before I left." Yami blinked, bemusement replacing his accomplishment of knowing how long he'd been away. Yugi wasn't impressed. Those magenta eyes hadn't flickered in nostalgia nor did they react to anything spoken from Yami's lips.

"Ah." Yugi looked up for the first time since they met at the breakfast table.

The once spirit resisted the urge to sigh, waiting for the slow reply from his other self as he picked at the piece of bread he'd intended to be toast. It was hard to believe that only thirty minutes ago, his normal, _spastic_ other self had panicked like he'd seen a ghost (but really, Yami wasn't far from being one) instead of the oaf that sat in front of him.

"Well, until Grandpa gives the okay for you to stay here, guess you're stuck with it." Yugi limply shrugged, pulling away from his seat and slipping on his backpack. "But really, I don't see the use of you having a Domino High uniform."

"Are you leaving already?"

"Yeah. I'm picking up Anzu from her house before we leave." The hikari whirled around, putting his dirty bowl in the sink and turning on the garbage disposal before slipping on a pair of two, identical steel-toed boots. "Hang around here."

"And I will see you at four?"

"What? No." Yugi shrugged on the blue blazer that was signature to Domino High. "It's Thursday. Jou and I always go to Burger World and then for comics afterward." He grinned mischievously, violet eyes teeming with childish insight. "It's tradition."

"Ah." Yami smiled and mimicked Yugi's actions, bringing the half-full bowl to the sink and pouring it down the sink. "Then perhaps—"

"Don't do that!" Yugi shoved his other self aside, yanking the bowl from his grasp before ducking and looking to the drain. A groan left his lips and he rolled his eyes. "You can't just dump small silverware in there! The garbage disposer almost annihilated the spoon!"

The once pharaoh was left speechless. Nerves bundled up at the pit of his stomach at what just happened, shredding away all…just like that spoon. "I'm sorry," the red-eyed teen softly muttered. "It was an accident."

"Yeah, no…it's fine. Sorry for yelling." Yugi ran a hand through his hair and flipped the switch. He sighed with aggravation, eyes tightly shutting. "Tell Grandpa not to use the sink and that I'll unclog it when I get back from school."

"You've certainly grown up." Yami arched a wary eyebrow, scooting closer to the sink and pulling up his sleeves. He switched the nozzle to 'on,' dispensing soap to cold water, and held a dirty bowl between his fingers.

Yugi slapped the same nozzle off and yanked the bowl from Yami's grasp. "Yeah, well," muttered the shorter as he rested the dish gently in their beaten up dishwasher. "It's been eleven months since I've seen you. I was bound to kick off the training wheels and ride by myself."

"Ten months and fifteen days," Yami corrected. He reached over to pick up the last dirty dish in an effort to help out the hikari, but never had the chance. Yugi ignorantly grabbed it himself—or, supposedly, considering how fast he reached for it—and set it in a rack all of its own.

"Um, yeah." Bright violent eyes glinted with a quick, out-of-place pink and the short teen shrugged. "Promise me you won't touch anything."

"I…" Yami attempted to blink away the discomfort and slowly nodded. "Alright. I'll try to behave."

"Good," breathed what seemed like an impatient light. Yugi ran a hand through his hair, hastily yanking his backpack from the table before Yami had the chance to return to his seat. He shrugged and curled his toes. "Seriously, I have to get going."

Defeated, Yami urged himself to smile and fiddled with the identical collar set around his neck. "Then, I guess I'll see you tonight, aibo—"

"Bye Atemu."

Not even the slam of the door seemed louder than _that_ name slapping him across the face. Yami stared at the door leading to the stairs that would take someone down to the front and in the Game Shop. When the second slam echoed up to the stairs, he sighed and collapsed on the couch. This wasn't…exactly how he imagined things to go.

Hands clasped together and at his mouth, Yami closed his eyes, the exact expression of his hikari coming to mind. It was strange being human again. The last time he was able to see or feel any his emotions…_touch_ something was the Ceremonial Duel; and as he said, that was ten months and fifteen days ago. But back then there was no time to relish his new lungs or reach out and ravish the touch of Yugi's delicate-looking skin.

Yes, delicate-looking. As a spirit once before, they had some type of connection through touch, but it was never enough; not like a human. It was what defined him as an irate ghost—an outcast to others of the afterlife, if his only kindred spirit (literally and figuratively) was a pain in the ass thief that robbed his father's tomb.

But along with the emotion of despair also came the feeling, and it damn well felt mighty—what was the word Jonouchi always used? Ah. Shitty. Yami gently took hold of the remote control, tossing it back and forth between his fingers for a moment and eyed it like a cat playing with a tassel. His heart spliced in two by the knife known as his name.

The once pharaoh recalled earlier, how those beautiful, fuchsia-magenta orbs glistened and studied through tired eyes his other half, taking a moment to realize what was sitting on his couch before letting out a harsh screech, scrambling for his bedroom door and slammed it with a disgusting echo.

With a grimace, Yami's harshly beating chest back then--anxious and nervous ever since he woke up on a park bench and found by Mister Mutou—and quickly sank by the fear in Yugi's eyes. Despite their rusty and close-to-extinct mind link, it didn't take much digging into his partner's expression to find that those eyes weren't enthused by his sudden expression. Quite the opposite, in fact.

And as Yami stared at his other half's door for ten achingly slow minutes, he realized that Yugi was probably terrified beyond all belief to gather up the nerve to open the door. He took _that_ time and reminded himself what Mister Mutou suggested of him—get a bagel. Eat. Make himself feel at home and certainly, do not feel so humble in a house he'd practically lived in for four years—certainly more than seventeen, if the time he spent as scrambled pieces of a puzzle sitting behind a glass case in Kame Game Shop counted.

With a resilient sigh, Yami pressed a finger to the power button and pulled away from his stupor. First impressions were never the easiest, obviously, and he shouldn't have felt so disconsolate about it. Eying the dirty dishes and then analyzing the wildfire he made out of the embers of washing dishes, Yami collected all of the thoughts and memories—technically, _Yugi's_ memories—about cleaning after breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

For a brief moment as his hand grazed against the glass plate, the brooding teenager remembered his days as pharaoh—something so different for him, still so foreign despite gathering all of those memories—that he had slaves and servants clean for him. Certainly, Yami though as he gathered all of the silverware, a sponge, and soap before scurrying to the bathroom sink, that was a different part of his life.

A cold shiver ran up his spine, coinciding with the chilly water once the nozzle was turned and he eyed the golden bracelet with seven blank trinkets. Yami grimaced, scraping away left over cream cheese from his bagel and dumped milk and cereal in the trash can. Really, he shouldn't have been so disappointed. He shouldn't have!

"_So the Nameless Pharaoh shows himself."_ Yami shuddered again; _that_ memory running loud and clear in his mind. _"And with an intent gleaming in those eyes, no doubt."_

Yami softly smiled, pausing from cleaning the bowl long enough to remember how he stared the great Ra straight in the eye and was nearly driven into insanity for not being able to see his aibou. _"Yes_," he had said. _"I suppose you are aware that because my spirit was trapped, I was never able to come to the afterlife and therefore not partake in the cycle of life."_

"_We applaud you,_" grumbled an intimidating Set. That God in particular had a bitter tongue and piercing eyes. _"Three thousand years of solitude and you persevered. Certainly a persistent mortal." _

"_Do not mock him."_ The Great Mother, Goddess Isis, slapped the silly god over the head and cradled her son delicately in her arms. A smile graced the lips of this beautiful she-god, and she offered a gargantuan hand to small, mice-like Yami's cheek. _"What is it that you wish for, little Horus?" _

His throat had run dry. Despite all of the evils he'd driven away—Pegasus, Marik…Dartz, and Thief King Bakura—he was still but a pawn in the hands of the Gods, and did not expect for them to warm up to him so quickly. _"I…wish to return to earth."_

The three gods looked at him unexpectedly, sharing glances with all of the other surprised deities as once again, Goddess Isis, also known as the Goddess of Fertility, spoke. _"Surely you understand that when the time comes, young Horus Atemu—" _He distinctly remembered cringing at the name "—_you will be reborn, just as the others."_

"_No_," he broadly replied. _"I wish to return to the living world now—but not as an infant. If you shall allow me, I would like to return to the world just as I left it—at the age of seventeen, when I died, and live my life."_

And there it had been. All the gods stared at him, stunned and…suddenly outraged. Grouched and annoyed, Ra's eyes pierced through him and if he had not been a ghost—purely intangible and all—he would have felt the searing burns as the god of the sun cast rays of fury against his form. _"You wish to what, Atemu?"_

Yami recalled shuddering; the chills of a hotheaded god's tone enough to freeze all of the Sahara. He stood his ground, eyes never leaving the lead God and curling his fists. _"Am I not one of the most memorable pharaohs of all time? I beg of you—please allow me to return."_

Osiris had growled. He sneered, far more angered than any of the other gods. _"You have a lot of nerve, __mortal__, if you truly think that your worth is greater than a peasant. Despite what you hear, we do not play favorites." _

"_And that brings us to another point_," Goddess Isis suddenly uttered. What were the other words Jonouchi often used? Yes…he was pissed off to no end. The once warm and thoughtful Queen of the Gods icily frowned; disapproving of this request and flippant in an instant. _"Why return and abuse the young boy known as Yugi Mutou yet again, Atemu? Had you not enough the first time?" _

"_What on earth are you…suggesting?_" Yami had been shocked. Disheartened. Angered. Again, "shitty" and "pissed off." _"Are you saying that the relationship I had with aibou was—"_

"_Parisitic? Heartless? Ruthless?" _Ra eyed him. _"Yes, Atemu. After what we have been shown with Bakura and certainly the negative effects on the mortal known as Malik Ishtar, whatever effects the Ancient World has had on Modern Day mustn't be tolerated. You did your job, saving the world from evil and now you must rest in peace before being summoned for reincarnation." _

"_No!" _Yami harshly hissed. His pungent refusal echoed through the Court of the Gods, each eying with their own dismay and disapproval as a scowl concocted across the young pharaoh's lips. _"What aibou and I had together…certainly, it was _nothing_ that lacked care and compassion! If you are blind enough to believe that I __used__ him without feeling any sort of sympathy, then you are wrong! I spent those years with him being his friend! _Protecting_ him!" _

After that, the once Pharaoh had bitten his words and cringed, expecting each and every one of them to smite and banish him forever. But he stood his ground. He had to. After the strong message he felt from his other half, there was little to nothing stopping him from running up to Aibou and embracing him—had it not been the fact he could not be seen, heard, or touched. He needed the body.

"_And you think this relationship is real?" _

"_What…I…of course I do."_ He had strong feelings for Yugi. Emotions always ran awry and dangled by a thin string, slowly threatening to plummet and Yami tried with all his might to keep that string from snapping in two. He would have traded every memory in the world he had of his former life for his other self, and regretted that he didn't.

"_And you certainly did not just use his body?"_

"_If you mean I coerced him into lending me his body, then you are most certainly wrong."_

"_We are only looking out for this mortal." _

And then Yami wanted to laugh. He was ready to throttle the gods, had it not been the fact he would direly pay for it in the long-run and shrinking his already weak chance of returning to the mortal realm. _"Did you not just say the Gods did not play favorites?" _

The way Set then caught his sharp tongue painfully reminded him of… _"Do you question the Gods?" _

"_If your feelings are sincere, young Horus,_" Isis said, pressing Set against the arm and forcing his mouth shut, _"Then we will give you this chance." _

It was like floating on air. Well, all considered, Yami was quite sure as a ghost he _could_ float in air, but decided to leave it be. Instead, his generally serious eyes melted for a moment, succumbing to the incredibility of that statement. _"You will allow me to return as I am?"_

"_Not with as many affections as you may be used to, Horus Atemu."_ Ra wryly glared at him and shoved a large finger in his chest. _"Can you name seven things about Yugi Mutou that you fell for?" _

Surprised, Yami blinked. _"His courage, his innocence, his determination—"_

"_No. When we allow you to return to earth, Horus Atemu,_" smiled Goddess Isis. She picked him up, like a fairy in the grasp of a human. In glorious shimmers, the goddess who also reigned over all that was magical laced a gleaming bracelet around the pharaoh's wrist. Seven blank trinkets dangled beautifully. _"In order to prove that the relationship you had with one Yugi Mutou was indeed real and not fake, you must show us the qualities that enticed you about this mortal." _

"_One year?" _screeched an irate Set. _"A year is far too much time for this foolish mortal and those seven charms. Dear Isis, you are practically letting him flaunt around and defy the rules of life and death!" _

Isis had grown annoyed. She scowled, eyes narrowing dauntingly at her brother by blood and law. _ You dare insult whom I choose to watch over?"_

"_Understand, darling,"_ Osiris interrupted as Seth readied to retaliate, _"That we must not always base our choices with bias. One year is well enough time to abuse this body—if we were to abide by his wishes—and do as he pleases." _

"_Not to mention this little one has already used the mortal Yugi Mutou's body once for courting that girl,_" snorted Seth.

Yami paused from washing dishes, cheeks ablaze as the memory of his supposed "courting" of Anzu drifted back. Every memory of Anzu, really, had a similar theme and motive buried deep behind it. Protect her. Save her. Do everything in his power to guard her, even if that meant sacrificing his life, because what and whomever Yugi loved, he was automatically obligated to dote over.

The sudden twinge in his heart distracted him long enough that Yami failed to notice water gushing and overflowing from the sink. After a string of curses, he turned the nozzle off, scurrying to the utility closet as a trail of fruit loops floated behind and rummaged for a mop. No mop found. Another string of curses later—certainly many that Jonouchi shouldn't have been teaching him—exploded from his lips and the struggling pharaoh chose the next best thing: a broom.

With a sigh of relief, Yami plunged the straw broom in a milky-watery substance and pushed it back into the bathroom with little success, but enough so that he was able to close the door.

"_Enough!" _he remembered hissing to the gods as they bickered. His fatal flaw known to be a combination of hubris and his infamous ill-temper, the once spirit was due for a lucky break and have that work in his favor. _"In one month's time, I will prove the validity of my feelings for one Yugi Mutou. Just as there were seven millennium items, I will prove seven qualities we had in our relationship._" He had looked God Set in the eye, brow upturned with barely-hidden smugness as he urged the god on. _"Does that seem unfair enough for you?"_

And here he was now, sweeping up water with a mop substitute. Their minds had only brushed, feathery light touches of the hikari's to his very own, but after much solitude and one mind; the skim of innocent thoughts groped his better judgment and tempted him further into the already-desired request. It had been nearly a week since the message had gone through; since Yugi expressed the desire to see him. Normally it was expected, for his friends of this life to miss him, but the fact that it had already been almost eleven months, Yugi's desires could be considered a hopeful anomaly.

One month, he reminded himself. Eyes prying apart the magical bracelet, he shuddered at this jewel, something that had total control over the next steps of his life—literally.

"_Understand the consequences if you choose to move forward with this plan,_" Ra grumbled before seeing him off. _"If you speak the truth about the relationship between you and Yugi Mutou, then you may stay. But if you cannot find these seven things, cheating the circle of life only handicaps you and never again will you be allowed to step foot into the living world._"

Seven things? Not a problem. Yami scooped the last of fruit loops and cheerios before dumping them in the trash can. The last of milky-watery residue he poured down the bath tub drain, bracelet brilliantly shimmering at his wrist. Seven things in one month? Certainly no problem. He'd handled worse.

Seven things…in one month…when there seemed to be a horrible presumption of character on Yami's part. He bit his lip, quickly finishing the rest of the dishes and then frowned. None of the dirty water would go down the sink.

Yami shed of the blazer, leaving only the muscle shirt that had become his signature as his days of being Yami no Yugi. Now…he was only Yami. And as Yami, he had as much knowledge of unclogging the bathroom sink as a squirrel. Grimace across his lips, he set aside the dishes near his foot and dug through the bits and gunk of this morning's breakfast.

Surely—_yank_—he shouldn't have—_pull_—really worried—_rattle, choke—_about just this first impression—_wrestle wrestle; sting, splice—_but it was. In hollow victory, Yami yanked the horrible quarter-left of a soggy bagel out of the drain.

Oh, how raunchy.

He chunked it in the trashcan quickly, before staring at the sopping crumbs still attached to the indents between his fingers. Even raunchier. Yami observed the food blemishes then sniffed it. Raunchiest. He clutched his stomach, resisting his gag reflex and wiped the moldy bread (and he used that term quite loosely) against his pant leg before gathering all the clean dishes, dish rag, and soap to get to the kitchen.

Passing the silent living room, he sighed in relief as he put away the dishes on the rack provided and listened to the humming silence.

Wait.

He'd turned the TV on before cleaning dishes. Hadn't he? Yami turned around, fingers wrapped tightly around one of the dishes and eyed the television set. It was turned off. Tensing, Yami quickly put away the rest of the dishes and crept quietly to the couch.

He hadn't heard Mister Mutou enter. Nor Mrs. Mutou. No…it couldn't have been possible. But he had been so involved with unclogging the sink and what he was going to do about Yugi that he hadn't noticed.

But Mrs. Mutou certainly had no idea of his staying here. She worked late nights and early mornings, didn't she? He shuddered; remembering vaguely of his aibou's experience being whacked over the head by a spatula and feared what the woman would do to him; someone who looked like a complete stranger. Yami eyed his prey (or in this case, the couch) and continued his prowl. Lurking close and never letting up, he lingered, porcelain dish in hand need he slap the burglar who turned the television off into the next millennia and pou—

Meow.

"By the Gods!" Yami hissed, suddenly tackled and overtaken by the beast that dared…dared…lick him in the face? Maroon eyes flickered with confusion, only to find that just as alluring red eyes were staring right back at him. Then, he gaped.

A cat.

Since when did the Mutous have a cat? Then, he mentally slapped himself, scooping the small kitten in his hands and brushing a finger behind his ear.

"Why hello there, little one," he muttered. It purred in his arms, quickly readjusting and burying comfortably in Yami's grasp. It had been ten months and fifteen days, he reminded himself. It wasn't likely for everything to stay the same. Yugi was already seventeen—eighteen next year, and then he would be off to whatever college of his decision.

Yami cradled the cat carefully, heart suddenly slowing and pacing itself in the new obstacle of sadness and he set the plate carefully on the table. The teenaged noble sat on the couch and stroked the young kitten gently. It couldn't have been more than a year old; so be it more than a few months. Fragile and tiny, Yami stripped of his choker and allowed the little crimson-eyed feline to chew on it before delving back into his thoughts.

He shouldn't have been so critical. Nor should he expect for everything to be the same. Yami mentally slapped himself and dipped his head behind him. So what should he have done? Now that he ran his earlier statement through his head loud and clearly, pointing out to Yugi the number of days they'd been apart seemed quite geeky.

And one Yami did _not_ like the word geeky. With a scowl and heavy groan, dark red eyes fell to the golden bracelet for the umpteenth time that day and he realized the decision needing to be made. Sacrifice his dignity; his name as nobility as the once Pharaoh Atemu, and become a true mortal.

Yes…yes, that made sense. That had been why he changed his name. He had to become…become Japanese! Yami blinked away the bubbles of his epiphany and stroked the little kitten in brilliant success.

Only…there was no little kitten. Yami stood up, eyes wandering the area in efforts to find the small feline, but found there was no avail. He frowned. There had never been a case of an animal infiltrating the house; so why would a stray wander in here of all places?

"Little one," he called in more concern than needed. Yami searched high and low, steadily walking down the hallway before pausing in front of aibou's room. He abruptly halted, hesitantly eying the door before placing a hand at its knob. Ten months and fifteen days, he reminded himself. Surely it would be excusable to…invade Yugi's privacy if he were looking for a cat.

Clean floors, neat walls, neat bed, and not a game out of place. Yami's heart sank in a matter of seconds as he realized how clearly he was able to see the floor for the first time in twelve years, and he shut the door.

Though it may have sounded silly, he silently hoped that Yugi hadn't changed as much as Yami feared. With the room to be the first to go, it felt as if another memory—something he was always so sure of about his other half—had escaped him. Biting his lip, Yami forced his thoughts back on finding the cat. He turned his head at the first sign of mewls.

Strangled mewls.

Yami fastened his pace and rushed toward the sound and where he hoped it might lead him. He forced open the bathroom door, struggling pass all the water and cereal he was quite sure he'd mopped up before that he almost did not catch sight of the feline because of the state of the bathroom.

Hazardous. Disgusting. Raunchy. Water disastrously poured from the sink, creating a large puddle—pond, in a better sense—at the core of the floor while little bagels floated off like yachts for ants and mice. Toilet paper dripped across the floor, shower turned on and pouring like rain while in the center was a little bi-colored Siamese kitten rolling around, sunbathing in a windowless room.

He would have laughed. Really, if it hadn't been the fact that it almost seemed like a twister had torn through the room, Yami would have enjoyed the sight of a little cat rolling around in the water. …except the cat seemed like he was choking.

What was the "f" word that Jonouchi constantly used; because that certainly fit the mood right now.

Yami rushed by the young kitten's side, large feline eyes widening to saucers and choked hisses escaping its throat. What was he supposed to do? What was he supposed to say?! Out of all his experience in gaming, there was never actually a game where he had to save a person's life like this!

Then, faintly, Yami remembered the CPR classes Anzu had forced Yugi to take with her in case one day they would need to save a life. Heimlich maneuver. The once pharaoh took the cat—despite its wails and scratching—and pressed it against his stomach. Thumb under what he assumed was its stomach, he pushed and jutted upwards. The kitten heaved and gagged; maybe even sob a little from the force Yami exerted, but he was quite sure the feline would thank him in the long run later.

Like a large rock chunked into a pond or a pitcher throwing a baseball, the quarter of a bagel exiting the kitten's tiny mouth and pinballing back and forth until rolling in the corner like a hacked up hair ball.

Yami let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding, quickly clutching the kitten to his side. Its breathing was back to normal and it hacked a little more before gagging whatever else it ate onto Yami's forearm and leaving. Already too stunned that he saved a life without the help of shadow magic, he didn't care when the kitten pushed out of his arms and frolicked elsewhere.

"Ahem."

And all of it was over. Yami flinched, brushing away whatever the kitten had vomited on his arm before catching two different pairs of eyes. Mister Sugoroku Mutou and his beloved daughter who, quite violently, was holding a spatula in her hands.

"Hello," Yami said quietly, though dreadfully.

"Hello." Mister Mutou arched an eyebrow. "Would you care to explain why there are fruit loops in my bathroom sink, Atemu?"

--

**Author's Note: **

Sooo, I have a lot on my plate, but this is kind of a median for me. I'll keep my updates for AiaCR and Pennies, but this one's a bit more relaxing and a heck lot shorter for me. The whole purpose of this story is actually, really, to reverse the roles of Yugi and Yami without having them break in character. Hopefully, I didn't break their characters too much in this first chapter; and I hope you guys enjoy it. I promise it won't be too long, but obviously not too short, and if you're willing to read the rest, I'm willing to write more! :D Reviews would be nice!


	2. Chapter 2

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_**two.**_

_**--**_

It took seven towels, two trash bags, four sponges, one full tub of Oxiclean, and nine boxes of baking soda before the bathroom actually looked like what Yami first entered when attempting to wash dishes. An hour and a half into cleaning, Mrs. Suzuki Mutou deemed him horribly incapable with a mop (though it was mostly his fault for accidentally breaking it in two), politely asked that he grabbed a pair of clean clothes from Yugi's room and recommended using the master bedroom's shower since he apparently smelled like two thousand year-old clams.

One, she was off by a millennium, and two, although regaining all his memories, Yami still hadn't the faintest idea whether or not he'd ever had clams. Shoving that matter aside and relieved after Mister Mutou explained quite a bit of the once pharaoh's situation (though, apparently not a lot. The woman seemed to know more than she let on), the spatula was gone from her sight and he learned she was very polite and headstrong.

And _very_ protective of her household.

Though clearly punishing Yami and telling him he had to help clean the mess he created, after the long time trying to clean up, the noble unfortunately created more harm than good. That being said, Mister and Mrs. Mutou relieved him of his duties and Yami was reminded of personal hygiene—something he really didn't need in the afterlife.

As he stood in the shower, water splashing against shoulders as he faced the wall, Yami contemplated his current predicament. Despite the fact both adults were clearly amused by his handicaps, it wasn't how he imagined first impressions to go. If anything, he quietly groaned, Yami would have wished that he could go back in time.

He had never had so much trouble in his _life_!

With an unceremonious sigh, he reached for the shampoo—Herbal Essence, apparently—and combed through the knots of his hair. He quickly washed off, wiping the last of dried, crusty food on his body and checked twice to make sure he didn't reek of cat puke. With much success, Yami turned the nozzle off and covered himself in a towel before heading toward Yugi's room.

He caught a quick glance of Mister Mutou and Mrs. Mutou still trying to fix the drain. A pang of guilt carved into his chest and he frowned, but knew he had a better chance of being cursed to the Shadow Realm than be allowed back into the bathroom. He opened the door to his other self's room, quickly taking in the sight and sighed.

Absolutely spotless.

There were days where Yami had lectured Yugi about cleaning his room, but was childishly shrugged off for acting so fatherly. Back then, his intention was only to make his aibou remember that although Yami needed help in finding out whom he was, Yugi needn't lose himself in the process. The teenaged pharaoh couldn't have cared less about the state of this room. Until now.

He missed the lingering scent of soda pop and pizza; having to be wary before treading across little pieces from other board games. He missed being able to stare at this room and grin, knowing full well that out of anyone, this room belonged to his other self. Yami leaned at the door frame, hair dripping and blinding his eyes and towel tied promiscuously at his hips. He…missed that smile he would get, and the playful roll of Yugi's eyes as the words, "clean your room, aibou" went in one ear and out the other.

Oh, cripes. It'd only been a day.

With a void sigh, Yami pushed the hair out of his eyes, shut the door behind him and looked through Yugi's closet. His fingers looped around the first shirt he saw; then a pair of jeans and a rickety couple of converse Yugi no longer wore. He changed quickly and pushed away the gnawing bother whining that there was no leather in Yugi's closet.

His eyes wandered to the mirror and forced a languid half smile. Black, ebony locks. Crackling, thunderous bangs. Flaming, flamboyant red at the tips of wild tresses and gleaming in his eyes. Had Yugi and Yami coexisted before, these features would have been prominent to only him, instead of being identical to the younger one. It was strange how he made this transition to this new world, but again not so surprising.

Yami tugged at the loose shirt dangling at his slim waist and cursed it. Running a hand through his hair, he reminded himself that despite generally looking like a duplicate, there were so many tiny, intricate details that made them different. Their size was one of them. Before, during their transformations, Yugi had every right to call him the "other me." He would inherit the same fuchsia orbs as his other self. Milky white skin unique only to one Mutou boy became his and in a way, their minds merged together. Back then he was no longer the Nameless Pharaoh, but Yugi Mutou himself.

And now…he was him. Whoever that was. Dark, alluring red eyes and pale skin with the slightest tint of caramel. Arching an ardent eyebrow, Yami took another moment to ravish the sight and indulge on the fact that he indeed had his own body without any handicaps (though, one might consider his inability to clean a disadvantage) and touched his own face. He proceeded with running a hand through his hair and for five minutes, tested the elasticity of his cheeks.

How on _earth_ did they stretch that far? The world may never know.

"Atemu, will you come here for a moment?"

"I—yes, of course." Yami involuntarily cringed at the mention of his real name, along with the soreness his mouth now endured from stretching his cheeks out too far. He grabbed the used towel between his fingers and awkwardly adjusted to the new feeling of his pants.

Not leather. Or cotton. Just denim. With a grimace and knowing very well he would probably have to get used to the new feel of his pants, Yami gracefully waddled toward the door and successfully found himself at the kitchen table. His eyes were met with those of Yugi's grandfather and mother. They sat across from him, instantaneously tearing away from another conversation and glancing to his form.

"You look nice," smiled Mrs. Mutou.

"Um, thank you." Yami blinked, yet again surprised by the sweetness and sincerity teeming from her lips. He'd only seen Mrs. Mutou a few times and quite frankly, was too used to her being blinded by good intentions of sending Yugi off to a good college and scornfully hitting her son upside the head for doing anything outrageous or silly. He awkwardly returned the smile.

"Well, go ahead Atemu." Mister Mutou's elderly smile widened and he gestured to the chair in front of him. "Sit. We must discuss your living arrangements."

Living arrangements? At that statement, Yami plopped down and scooted forward. He looked to the table and awkwardly played with the zipper of his pants. "I don't expect much, Mister and Mrs. Mutou—"

"Atemu." Mister Mutou arched an eyebrow, obviously surprised. He crossed his arms, eyes narrowing amusedly. "Care to try that again?"

"I…I apologize." Though Yami wasn't quite sure what he was apologizing for. Red rushed to his face and he looked between the both of them, still quite unsure of how to react and what on earth to say. Again, his fingers found the zipper to Yugi's pants and he flicked it over and over again. Up, down, up, down. At least that was one thing he could not mess up.

Mister Mutou smiled, obviously sensing his uneasiness. "Do you know what you're apologizing for, son?"

"Well…yes…of course…I-I…absolute…no, not really." With a defeated sigh, his dark eyes studied the old man and fingers fiddled with his zipper. Playfulness brimmed through indigo orbs and the hidden mischief now resurfaced in the old man's eyes.

"Out of all the years I've known you—including your time spent in a box, dear boy, I have never been known as 'Mister Mutou.' You will address me as Sugoroku or, as I would enjoy, Grandpa and any form of that." Mister Mutou eyed him keenly, eyebrow cocked. "Understood?"

Yami opened his mouth, agape. He slowly nodded, looking back to Mister Mu…Sugoroku, and felt his cheeks blaze. "I don't think I deserve such an honor, Mister Mutou."

"Preposterous." Sugoroku waved his hand dismissively. "Now…try it out for yourself."

Red orbs scanned the table and fingers fiddled with his pants. Yami felt himself sag from the erect position once before held and bit his lip. Quietly, he muttered the name of the man he'd known for so long. "Sugo—"

"No."

The once pharaoh frowned, startled. "What do you mean—?"

"Say the one I want you to say and you darn well know what I'd rather you call me." Sugoroku's eyes narrowed and he dauntingly urged Yami to try and backsass him.

His entire face glowed in fluster once again. "Gran…father," he quietly stammered. After watching the approval dance across Sugoroku's face (albeit a little disappointed he'd still been so formal,but the old man urged him on), he continued. "I just…would like to thank you for…inviting me over for the day and…stuff."

Sugoroku's expression softened. "Allowing you to stay one day is certainly not enough to repay you for how much you've helped my grandson."

Yami's cheeks burned. He bit his lip in contemplation and embarrassedly shrugged. His eyes landed on the bracelet yet again and he weighed his options. Though he'd rather stay here and close to Yugi, it would have been rude demand residence here. He wasn't Pharaoh Atemu, he was just…well, him. "If you will allow me to stay for this one day, I will leave soon after and be out of your hair."

Sugoroku silenced.

Cripes. He knew he'd blown it with the old man after wrecking the bathroom, but Yami had hoped he had enough credit to be given at least one day in the Mutou Household. Awkwardly standing, he stared at the ground; ashamed that he had such an arrogant assumption. For years he'd duped the family and had them thinking he was their successor, Yugi Mutou, when in fact, he wasn't.

"I guess," He whispered guiltily, "I'll be going then. I am sorry for even—"

"Atemu. Sit."

"I…what—"

"Sit."

"I—okay." Confused and deciding he'd already shed of his pride, Yami plopped in his seat, not daring to defy the intimidation set in Sugoroku's eyes. He glanced to Mrs. Mutou, who smiled and also challenged him to go against her father.

"You are to live here until further noticed," Sugoroku sternly responded. In one graceful move, Mrs. Mutou went to the refrigerator and began tinkering with several ingredients. Giving only a slight notice to it, Yami stared at the elderly man in surprise and dumbfounded. Sugoroku took this as his signal to go on and arched an eyebrow. "Did you think I would allow you to sleep on the streets or get by on so little? You told me on our walk here that this was your first day with this body and…what's it been? Eleven months? A year?"

"Ten months and fif…ten months," Yami said. He stared at the man intently and tried his best to decipher any cryptic message, but found there was no such thing. Sugoroku Mutou was being one-hundred percent sincere.

"It's seemed so much longer without you around." Nostalgia twinkled in the man's eyes. The elder Mutou smiled genuinely and put a hand on Yami's own. "Don't let this shop fool you, young man. Now—I have enough money not just saved up from running this business, but from years of travelling in order to support more than just my grandson. Yugi can take you shopping this weekend for essentials—such as clothing and stuff. Suzuki and I will go out and buy whatever furniture is needed and all you must do is adjust—feel as home as you need. Just don't try to clean."

"I…But…M-Mister Mutou…"

"That's Grandpa, son." Sugoroku eyed him in exasperation and smiled. "Please. Wipe the shock off your face. Now—did the Gods only give you a new body or did they establish who you are?"

"…I am registered as a citizen, yes." And if he did not fulfill his obligations, all of his birth and health records would disappear just as they had appeared—without notice. Yami looked down, cheeks igniting as he took in all of this newfound information.

"Ah." The elder nodded victoriously and crossed his arms. "Then I do believe, Atemu, you are only seventeen. Next week, we can enroll you for class at Domino High just like Yugi."

"Mister Mu…G-Grandpa, you don't have to do so much for me."

"Why yes, I do. Son, if you did not exist, then that fateful day when we found each other, I would have died."

Yami stopped breathing. The memory flowed back in his head and he looked back to Sugoroku, who reminded him so much of Siamun. Or really—_does Siamun remind me more of Sugoroku?_ He shivered, tapping into his old memories and was frowning. The man he saved back then he thought was the elder who'd taken care of him as a child. In a way, he was only half wrong, but his intentions were misguided. Had he gone with his second instinct and thought it was an ordinary burglar, Atemu would have let him fall. And that was what scared Yami the most.

"Please, Atemu. Don't over think this. You are in no way a burden to us."

"I…I…" He let out a sharp sigh and obediently nodded. "Okay."

"Good." Sugoroku smiled in return, this time completely satisfied. "Is there anything else?"

"No, of course not. …well, actually…" Yami wanted to be in the way of as little people as possible. Already it was hard to take in, to understand what the old man was willing to do with him. Living here. Eating here. Buying him new clothes. Going to school. Despite being Atemu, as Yami he expected nothing more than to be responsible for himself; not…get a flattering modern-day substitute of the royal treatment. So, as Yami… "If I may make one request, Mister…Grandfather?"

Sugoroku eyed him, obviously preparing to deny any objection and ready to yet again pamper Yami's insecurities. "Yes?"

"I've been known so long as Yami that I'd rather be called that." His cheeks flared and Yami snapped away from the other's gaze. "If…if you'll allow me that privilege. I…I mean…you don't have to, but I would rather…perhaps I should just keep my mouth shut."

"No, oh no." Sugoroku's eyes widened and he smiled tenderly. "If that's what you want to be called, then we will…Yami. Hm, much more familiar on the tongue as it is. Alright. Now that we have most things settled—hmm, your living arrangements, school arrangements, and—have you eaten yet? Ah, I'm sure you have."

"There is one other thing," Yami said steadily. He eyed the elderly man and frowned. This time he would not back down and was set on this decision. "Regardless of how you want to treat me, Grandfather Sugoroku, I am not one who you need to spoil and I don't want to ask you of anything more than I should. So please—aside from basics, let me pay rent."

Sugoroku arched an eyebrow. "Rent."

Yami bit back a gulp. "Yes. Rent."

"Hmm." The man rubbed his chin troublesomely and studied the once pharaoh warily. Finally, he stopped and smiled further. "Working down in the Game Shop won't be a blow to your pride, will it?"

"No…no. Of course not." Yami smiled. "That would be great, sir."

"Good." Sugoroku yawned, pushing away from the table and artistically allowed his back to crackle. He stretched through his old age and smiled. "Now, go ahead and start if you wish. Knowing Yugi, he won't be home for a while and, quite frankly, I've yet to open the shop."

The noble teenager nodded in agreement. "Yes…okay."

"Mm, good. I'll be taking a well-deserved napped then." The elder grinned, thoughtfully rubbing his chin as he eyed Yami. "Has anyone ever told you that you scare others easily?"

Again, Yami found himself blushing as he looked back to the table. "So I've been told."

"Very well then. Watch yourself and—please, don't lift a finger. I beg of you." With a tired chuckle, Sugoroku's belly rumbled mirthfully before he made his way to the room in the far back corner. Yami watched carefully, waiting until he heard the click of the old man's door before getting up and making a quick checklist of how to open up the shop.

Restock the cards, polish collectable figurines, dust the board game boxes, check if there were any defective stuffed animals…it'd been a while since he was put to work—

"Have you eaten yet?"

"Bwuh?" Yami snapped out of his thoughts, looking back to the soft voice he had forgotten about part way through his conversation with his new grandfather. "Pardon me, Mrs. Mutou?"

As her father had done and just as effectively, Mrs. Mutou eyed him with an amused smile. "Suzuki. You are to call me Suzuki so long as you stay in this household."

Yami darkened. "Okay."

Suzuki reappeared in front of Yami, gracefully pushing him back in his seat and set a plate of warm, gooey chocolate chip cookies in front of him. Next to it appeared a glass of milk and she sat in front of him, ice tea in her left hand. "Will you eat before you work?"

"If you want me to." The look on her face wasn't lulled. Yami rethought his statement and slowly dipped a rich, chocolate chip cookie in the cup of cold milk. "I'd love to."

They sat in silence, occasionally glancing at one another. He slowly swallowed the last bits of his first cookie, eyes falling to the bracelet. Only a few hours had passed since Yugi had left for school. Before those few hours, Yugi had also been reluctant to have him around. No smile. No proper welcome. No, "I missed you." No smile. No laughter. No…no smile.

"Are you in love with my son?"

Yami fell out of his chair. His head collided first to the ground, followed by three irrationally hot cookies that landed on his back and he choked on the last bit of milk he managed to consume. Slowly rising, he eyed one Suzuki Mutou and felt the tips of his ears glow pink. "I-I beg your pardon?"

Suzuki did not flinch. She clasped her hands together, eyes twinkling with the same mischief of her father and what was obviously passed on to her son. "Why else would you come back, if not for my son? Do you love Yugi?"

"I…I…" He wasn't quite sure how to answer _that_ one. By technicality, he had to prove his feelings about Yugi Mutou as he said, but despite them having to be non-hosty kind of feelings, there was nothing deeper. His thoughts drifted back to the ceremonial duel where his aibou had sobbed after winning. By default in Yami's mind, he had to do the right thing. Back then, leaving Yugi was what had been just, but after spending a countless amount of time away from his hikari, he couldn't be as sure. When Yugi had reached out to him that fateful day through their mind link, he jumped at the chance at coming back to see the modern world—or more particularly, Yugi. His eyes drifted back to the bracelet. Seven things he liked about one Yugi Mutou?

His innocence. His bravery. His persistence. His honor. His need to protect others. His endurance. His…his smile.

Things that he…loved about Yugi? Too many to count. But love _him_?

"Alright." He snapped out of his thoughts once Suzuki spoke again. She laughed softly and shook her head. "I should have seen this coming."

"Okay," he stupidly mumbled, cheeks flaring. Yami looked back to the cookies and shrugged. "If I may ask, you couldn't have reacted pleasantly when finding out I was impersonating your son."

Suzuki arched an amused eyebrow. "I wouldn't really call it impersonating. If anything, I think that you were the perfect confidence boost for my son. Pardon me for asking, but Yami…now that you have your memories back, were you always sure of yourself? If a stranger were to see you, they'd never think you had a confidence problem."

She must have not been seeing how insecure he felt at the moment. Yami shrugged, unwillingly thinking back to his memories in Egypt. "I became the pharaoh at a very young age," he quietly said. "Before that all I could do was cry and lean on my father for comfort, but once that beacon of support was gone, I realized I had to grow as a ruler."

"I see." She nodded slowly. "Your mother must have been very proud."

Yami paused and shook his head sadly with a sad smile. "No. I lost my mother when I was very young." Her eyes widened and he continued. "I don't remember a lot of her. There…was this one occasion when she took me out to pick flowers, but that's all. She was very pretty though." He ran a hand through his hair and slowly nodded to himself. Alluring red hair and exotic ruby orbs. That was his mother. Beautiful and extravagant, but not so that she was lost in riches. Just because she'd known her place did not mean she didn't acknowledge others.

"You can always talk to me if you want to." He looked up and faced her smile. Suzuki pressed a hand to his shoulder, slowly getting up and putting her empty glass next to the sink. She looked back kindly. "Anytime, Yami. I'll be your mother if you want me to."

"…thank you."

"You're welcome. Now, have fun with work."

Yami smiled back and stood up, hesitantly taking the plate of cookies along. He finished the last of his milk and lingered toward the stairs, watching as Suzuki pulled out a phonebook and undoubtedly called for a handyman. He sighed and looked back to the bracelet looped around his wrist.

Two Mutous down, one to go.

--

**Author's Note: **

Hmm, not much in this chapter, but pretty needed. C: I'm glad you guys like it so far and I hope you stay tuned; it won't be updated as much as my others (no time, sadly) but it will well enough. Thank you and… reviews would be nice!


	3. Chapter 3

--

_**three.**_

_**--**_

This hadn't been the type of material he had in mind. By the Gods, he wasn't sure if it could be considered _material¸_ considering for the past three-thousand and seventeen years of his life, all Yami classified cloths as was linen or leather. Denim, on the other hand, was still something he needed to get used to. According to one deadpan Yugi Mutou, leather was rarely seen as school appropriate, let alone something for their age group.

In some disturbing way, one groused and pouting once pharaoh took into consideration why an oddball like Yugi (someone who was extremely short for his age group and so gentle he was scared of flies) would wear leather and pieced together that Yugi wore it out of generosity for him. He hoped so, anyway.

Despite the countless times Yami recalled seeing Anzu in miniskirts and low-cut shirts that might as well covered nothing but her stomach, they were apparently deemed more appropriate for a teenager than leather pants. He resisted the urge to harrumph, only staring at the inexplicit substitute to his leather fetish.

For five long minutes, Yami stood against the dressing room mirror and—although satisfied with how well snug these pants really seemed—frowned. He shifted in the grimy Converse Yugi exasperatedly demanded he wore and uncomfortably curled his toes.

This wasn't right. This…this wasn't him!

He…he looked like… Oh, cripes. Yami smacked himself, anti-narcissistically backing away from the mirror that captured his every curve and physique. Wary dark eyes glared at its reflection and scrutinized the teenager staring back. That was right—a normal teenager. Nothing special. Nothing _regal._ With a shudder, Yami's fingers instinctively wound around the bracelet feigning his serenity.

"Atemu—are you done yet?"

Fake serenity left. "Yes—I'm…just a bit uncomfortable." He forced a smile but slapped himself as he realized Yugi would not have seen it either way. His fingers tightened around the shimmering lace and he bit his lip. Three days had passed since Sugoroku urged him to stay at the Mutou Residence. Somehow during the first twenty-four hours as Yami handled the storefront, both he and Suzuki had managed to sneak out the house and prepare a seemingly-normal room with a brand new mattress and mirror.

Yugi had shown up later that night while Yami watched Suzuki fold clothes and Sugoroku insisted on fixing the kitchen sink, taking little notice to the fact that the noble adolescent was still there. Three nights straight, Yugi was out on an adventure for whoknowswhat and would come home late in the evenings. According to Suzuki, this was normal behavior, and actually much earlier than when Yami was still residing in the puzzle. At that thought, Yami's cheeks flared as he steadily peeled off the uncomfortable polo and grabbed a particularly more expensive shirt that he found in the front of the store.

This one looked…nice. Plain, simple, and—Yami checked the price tag and grimaced—too expensive! He tossed the shirt to the side and snatched his wallet, quickly flipping through what little money he had and sighed before awkwardly grazing the credit card the old man insisted on gifting him.

The second Yami left the house he swore he would not use it. Out of all the tips and paycheck he got, it all came to a rounded total of fifty-seven dollars and twenty-one cents. According to Suzuki, that wasn't even likely to buy him a scarf at the mall. Now, Yami knew why.

He shrugged off the fact that Grandpa forced the card on him, demanding he not to come back until at least five hundred dollars were spent on a wardrobe, text books, and whatever else he liked before stripping (with a struggle because of the thickness of material) of his pants. He suddenly halted and stared at the blue denim that was also forced on him.

There was a better likelihood of Katsuya Jonouchi taking over KaibaCorp than him risking another Ra-forsaken rash in the abomination of Yugi's pants.

Yami took one look at his bare legs before hiking the black material above his hips and pulled the dark shirt that was a duplicate to the one Yugi wore to school every day.

"Any time now," said the voice on the other side of his door. Though subtle, Yami couldn't help but cringe at the sprinkles of annoyance teeming from his other self's—from _Yugi's_ voice.

Right. Yami held the bracelet tightly between his fingers before collecting the large pile of clothes randomly handed to him by the vibrant salesgirl. He quickly checked the price tag on his pants—then cursed. Already, these pants were enough to clean what little of a paycheck he had and although Yami knew _he_ could survive on one pair of pants for the rest of his lifetime, everyone else would find it insanitary. Borrowing Yugi's clothes seemed like plausible and perfect reasoning, but he didn't want to sever what seemed to be an already stiff relationship between them.

Running a hand through his hair, Yami carefully backed away from the mirror, stealing one last glance before emerging from the dressing room. Yugi sat in the middle, playing something on his PSP and inaudibly grumbling. He was able to make out a "finally" through the other's distracted speech pattern and awkwardly stood there, ten minutes straight with fingers intertwining around his bracelet while Yugi's eyes widened enthusiastically and childishly, the boy leaned into each _beep_ and _zap_ that could be heard within the game. Finally, the other broke into a grin and happily cheered at some unknown victory while Yami's lips pulled into a ghost of a smile.

Though not directed at him, seeing any type of enthusiasm across Yugi's face was a relief. Yami frequently minded the store from opening to closing every day, tensing at how well or poorly he was performing to the point of actually worrying for the next day before the current one was done.

As it was, Yami woke up early in the morning in order to categorize anything and Yugi now left through the side door of the Mutou Residence. His light would return later that night, and the only other instance they truly spoke had been for at most, thirty-seven seconds and Yugi was also carrying a conversation with Anzu, leaning more for _her_ than him.

Which never happened, Yami thought as he bit his lip. The order of confidants, even when Yami was too nervous to talk himself, was him, _then_ Anzu, _then_ Jonouchi or Honda (whoever came first, really), then Sugoroku and…somewhere down that list, Seto Kaiba was second to last. Despite this supposed rivalry between his aibou and the billionaire prodigy, Yugi had some strange liking to Kaiba; rarely seen and covered by a large amount of discomfort of being around the guy.

Like a donut and a donut hole. Yami unconsciously licked his lips, recalling the gooey taste of donut holes. Grandfather Sugoroku apparently had been cheating his diet in his early morning walks and once Suzuki found out the Thursday following Yami's arrival, she kindly asked that he disposed of them. Disposed of him he did, and after ten minutes of munching on delicious goodness, Yami did not have to worry about going back upstairs and facing the awkward, 'we-know-something-you-don't' glances of both father and daughter during breakfast. So indeed, Seto Kaiba was the raunchy donut hole to Yugi's life.

Once Yugi finished cheering, he stood up, quickly stretching and the smile quickly disappeared. Instead, his eyes narrowed to Yami expectantly and he gestured to the pants. "Are those what you're getting?"

"Yes."

"That can't be all you're just getting. Sharing clothes borders on creepy, you know."

"Yes…I mean, I know." Yami looked down to the ground, lightly fingering the price tag and stared at the accursed denim jeans that belonged to Yugi. He bit his lip, warily reminding himself how expensive these pants were but quite frankly, they were deemed the cheapest thing in the shop.

"Here." Yugi shoved clothes into Yami's chest and returned to his PSP, thoughts aside and cared for little.

Startled, Yami clumsily dropped what was already in his hand and stared at the new heap. "But I don't—"

"Salesgirl wants you to try these on. And don't make a mess." Yugi flashed him a scornful look and returned to what he had in his hand. "Don't expect to get the royal treatment while you're here. You're a teenager, so be responsible and pick it up."

"I…but…"

"No buts. Teenagers pick things up."

Had it not been for the irritation and depression swelling at the pit of Yami's stomach, he would have been excited that this was the first full sentence he managed to get out of the shorter boy. Instead, he was outraged and quite a bit embarrassed, too.

Yugi implied as though he were someone who could not lift a finger and—in some way, that was true; the Mutous would never trust him to lift a mop ever again—but Yami knew how to handle himself. In spite of all this, Yami dropped to the ground and collected all of the extra clothes. His pride sank and drowned to the pits of his stomach, but that had only been because he was ordered around like a peasant by Yugi—_Aibou_ of all people!

He neatly folded the pair of Yugi's jeans (or really, as neatly as possible) and put them at the top of the pile. Slowly, Yami walked through the hall connecting both store and dressing room, falling back just a bit as he expected Yugi to follow. No avail. The other absorbed himself in some unknown game, smiles reserved only for loud, obnoxious graphics and probably would not have noticed the sudden absence even if Yami was screaming at the top of his lungs because someone decapitated him.

That being said, Yami felt himself hurt a little bit. Responsibly, he handled all of the hangers and filtered them in order by color—red-to-red, blue-to-blue, white-to-white—

"You know you're in the women's section, right?"

By an intrusion on his compulsive distraction, Yami dropped all that was in his hand—_yet again_—and resisted the raw cry of agony threatening to escape his lips once a hook buried itself in the crummy hole of Yugi's worn out converse and was reduced to tiny tears. He whirled around, catching sound of a high-pitched giggle before his eyes settled on a girl. She was a bit taller, not as developed as Anzu, but close enough, and had the biggest smile he'd ever seen.

"I'm uh, what?" He sputtered gently as he remembered what disrupted his air of serenity. Quickly Yami fell to the ground, hands picking up the last of his clothes and he seethed, watching his toes wiggle in the tattered shoe before collecting himself and standing erect.

"You're in the women's section," she giggled again and pointed to the other corner of the room. "That's where you belong, silly."

"Oh." Yami frowned troublesomely and looked to the clothes he'd hung from place to place that were only a measly size larger. He eyed the brand name splattered fancily across all of the shirts and suddenly felt uncomfortable under dim lights. Abercrombie & Fitch—whatever store this was and why Yugi assumed he would get some substitute pleasure out of this store—had little creativity, as far as he was concerned. He softly bit his lip, feeling a little underdressed and mortified by the fact he failed to notice "A&F" sewn obnoxiously to his left butt cheek. With a subtle whine, he rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "Does it really matter what kind of clothes whatever sex wears?"

She giggled again, a bit redundant but very sweet. At that notion, Yami couldn't help but smile; finally able to get _someone_ to chide with him other than the two grown adults who resided above Kame Game Shop. "Ooh, a rebel. I like you."

"Thank you," he breathed, and for some odd reason, was quite alright with spewing his personal feelings to a random stranger he didn't know. "I like you too."

Red exploded in her cheekbones. She gasped and stared at Yami like it was the first time they'd seen each other. "Really?"

Yami nodded, softly rubbing his shoulder as he realized what he was doing. As it seemed, she was a very nice lady with a lot of makeup. Unlike Anzu, who went with little to none, this girl—he checked the nametag—Midori wore very much eye shadow and what he assumed was the modern day version of kohl. That being said, she often blushed and was giggling at everything he said, funny or otherwise. With newfound confidence, he hesitantly smiled and shrugged. "You're the first person to be nice to me all day."

Truth be told, it was only eleven in the morning, but after an awkward fifteen minute bus ride to the mall with Yugi, he was willing to accept generosity from just about anyone. Midori softly squeaked, cheeks darkening once again and she awkwardly laughed. "Are you buying anything, um…?"

"Yami."

"Are you buying anything, Yami?"

"Yes," he gestured to his legs. "I would like to buy these pants."

"Oh…okay then." She shyly gestured to the cash register where they quietly walked. Occasionally, Yami caught her staring at him, but ignored it for the better part. As it was, Midori was most likely a classmate of Yugi's and wondering why there was such a resemblance. Fortunately he would not have to explain that—yet. When they finally got to the counter, her face was even darker than the many fringes of her red hair. "I'm um, going to need the price tag to…"

"To check me out?" Yami innocently smiled and watched as she reddened even more. He propped up on the counter and gestured to the flap sticking out of his back pocket.

"O…okay," she stammered quietly. "I'm also going to need to take the security tag off."

"I can do that," he confidently agreed. The noble turned to the device that removed these tags. During their time together, his aibou was a careful shopper and rarely went to the mall for clothes. When he did, there were many leather pants involved, but what fascinated the once pharaoh the most was the device that took away tags that supposedly stored ink. He smiled at it slightly, accurately pressing his bottom on the mechanism before hearing a successful click and allowing the scanner to graze his price tag.

"That was…," she stared at him, both amazed and another reaction Yami wasn't quite so sure of, then struggled with a smile. "Wow. Um…your total comes to sixty-five dollars, Yami."

Sixty…five?! His eyes never left the tall girl, faintly identifying all of her vibrant qualities—from a flurry of red hair to the plumpness of his lips. Quickly, his expression dropped and Yami emitted a tragic, devastated sigh as he limply stared at his wallet. Three days of work for hours at end weren't even enough to pay for a pair of pants. In the back of his mind, he found the Egyptian side of him gravely missing waltzing around in kilts. Altogether, they limited how many separate pieces of clothing needed to be bought and the Atemu part of him was quite comfortable. Now as Yami, though, it seemed like an anomaly. He disliked wearing kilts, but they seemed like a better option at the moment.

At the sudden ring of the register, Yami looked up again and found Midori smiling genuinely. "I'll cover you."

"You couldn't possibly do that." His eyes widened in pure surprise and he shook his head. "I would rather exchange the pants than…"

"Too late." Midori enthusiastically winked and slid the receipt into his hand. Red ran across her cheeks and she smiled. "Here's my number when you want to pay me back."

"I will pay you back, _immediately._" Yami nodded, relieved that it wouldn't be the last he saw of such a nice girl. After saying his goodbyes, he reluctantly picked what money he did have in his wallet, eyed the large numbers on his receipt and went to the door, where he noticed the impatient Yugi.

"You have fun wasting time and flirting with the girl?" Yugi plainly asked.

"Mm." Yami shrugged, steadily refolding the clump of borrowed pants before stuffing his wallet in the back pocket of his new jeans. Suddenly, he halted and eyed the younger teenager. "What do you mean?"

"What do you mean what do I mean?" His light nonchalantly muttered and looked away in a random direction.

"Sorry," he whispered back, suddenly remembering that unlike with the really nice girl, Yugi was hard to talk to. "What on earth is 'flirting'?"

Yugi halted for a moment, sparing the first glance in ages toward one innocent pharaoh of Egypt. His gaze lingered quietly, light orbs narrowed and Yami's new body tingled. The once pharaoh gulped, throat suddenly dry as he realized that like any teenaged boy's body, his too was also reacting. Lightly, he turned away and quietly requested for the question to be forgotten.

Yugi obligated, and after constantly hovering around the stores, Yami politely hoped the shorter understood he would rather be elsewhere than the mall after one pair of pants, but that wasn't the case. Yugi followed him silently, giving at most five-word responses to any of the once pharaoh's rare questions.

During that time, Yami had met a handful of very sweet girls who guided him in and out of stores, politely asked if he could help them find particular stores and was complimented a lot. On that note, his confidence raised a little, silently assuring him that whatever blocked his communication with his partner was not something out of his hands, but deflated with each roll of the eyes Yugi seemingly thought escaped the corner of Yami's vision.

Biting his lip, Yami pushed the seventh phone number into his empty wallet, quickly bidding the other teenager 'good-bye' after confirming he was going to be attending Domino High and followed quickly behind the irritated Yugi. He caught quick glance of the time—2:30—and realized they'd been here for most of the afternoon. They hadn't spoken to each other for most of the day, Yugi's eyes ahead of him and focused on nowhere in particular. But once analyzing further, Yami found that more of Yugi's aggravation emerged as more girls came up to the once pharaoh to exchange numbers.

At that thought, his ears turned pink and he bit his lip, prying with his eyes the essence known as Yugi Mutou. There were only a handful of females Yami could ever recall in both his lifetimes—two as Atemu and three as Yami—and the closest he knew was Rebecca kissing his aibou on the cheek. His stomach churned at that thought, a sudden wave of jealousy overwhelming him and Yami instinctively grabbed his bracelet.

Despite how little Yugi now cared for him after the ten months and fifteen da—_nearly eleven months_—of separation, Yami knew his feelings and if they bordered what Suzuki Mutou seemed to _think_ they bordered, he had the awkwardly humiliating right to count the days he had. And he did. Technically speaking, seven charms split within the span of a month—thirty days per se, thirty-one at most—that would have given him roughly four days to work on each charm. If he were to find something astounding and amazing about Yugi Mutou every four days, he would gather all seven charms with two to three days to spare.

Technically speaking.

But they were now on the fourth day since Yami's arrival and so far, there was no convincing the Gods or the charm that he indeed loved Yugi Mutou. Or even convince himself, he thought warily. Red pricked his skin and he awkwardly grimaced in his trail behind his aibou. His goal wasn't to fall in love with Yugi. At first, anyway. The relationship they established before he left—what kind was it? Brother-brother? Father-son? He didn't know anymore.

Yami paused, quietly eying the Hot Topic store they'd passed for the fifth time that day and steadily looked inside where there were many clothes he normally wore thanks to his aibou. Temptation was almost far too great to ignore, but at the time, he really had no choice. Yami caught a glance of Yugi from the corner of his eye and continued after the shorter boy who seemed to be wandering aimlessly.

He stood by gently, quietly returning and unsure if the other would notice him, but thought it best to blend in. Bracelet shimmering at his wrist, Yami reminded himself that Yugi had absolutely no idea what his mission was. He was oblivious to the fact that Yami only had a month to stay at best—at _least_, he scolded himself—if finding seven qualities that through Yami's eyes, were the world.

And he already would have had seven things, if Yugi was more responsive and the charms were more sensitive to his thoughts. Unfortunately, neither was the case and his first attempt to get through that thick head of hair was all for naught. The second attempt--more by obligation than planned—was their hanging out together, and so far Yami knew that _sand_ had better conversational skills than Yugi.

Third time was the charm.

"Aib—"

"Atemu."

At the sudden tone—heck, _any_ tone in comparison to the nonchalance normally sensed in Yugi's voice—Yami eagerly halted to keep from falling over Yugi, who abruptly came to a fast stop. With a small smile, the once noble urged his light on and signaled for him to continue. "Yes, aibou?"

Yugi looked up, lovely eyes glittering with detachment to…well, anything Yami did, really. "You can go home now."

What? Yami's eyes widened and they never left the petite teenager, simply prying for a '_You're joking, right?'_ through the obviously not joking demeanor. Straightening himself out, Yami's fingers lingered near his wallet, were all he had left, really, were three dimes. Unfortunately that was not enough to ride the bus, and he hadn't been paying attention to what direction they'd gone from the bus stop. He went with the logical answer and shook his head. "I can't."

"Why not?" Yugi looked at him, both surprised and Yami poorly assumed irritated, before showing a frown that dipped in concern.

"I have to stay with you," Yami quietly replied. He looked down to the ground, unsure of how to look the irate teenager in the eye. Their silent dispute was only going on longer and unfortunately, dealing with many nice strangers who wanted to hang out with him faltered in comparison to the one he desperately wanted the attention of the most. "You're the only one with a phone and I have absolutely no idea how to get home."

In some kind of winded luck, Yugi must have noticed his distress, for he looked back up, surprised, before frowning and sighing. "It's going to be a few hours before we go home, Atemu. I'm hanging out with Anzu and the guys."

His eyes glistened with confusion and it was Yami's turn to look surprised, almost speechless. "And you think they would mind my staying?"

He hadn't seen any of them during his few days, always busy minding the shop. Even then, they normally appeared at the front and picked their short friend up before going off to school, but Yugi had made an insistence of going to Anzu's house himself.

Yugi stared at his toes and shifted between his feet. "They're…not exactly your type of friends."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Nothing." Magenta gems flickered conspicuously and he shoved a five dollar bill in Yami's hand. He flipped the other teenager and lightly pushed him toward the direction of the food court. "Fine. Just go get something to eat and we'll figure this out. I suppose this one instance the guys won't mind."

Fortunately, he was still granted an inch or two of height difference from his partner, and dragged his feet while being pushed. Yami clutched the money in his hand, pit of his stomach uncomfortably swirling before obliging and being sent off to the service known as 'Taco Bell.' He stood at the end of a rather long line, eyes reading the various menu choices before shoving his hands in the new pockets of his jeans.

Not his type of friends? Jonouchi, Honda, and Anzu meant the world to him. Had it been any other people that lifted small Yugi up and grow as a person, Yami wouldn't have loved them the same. The three of them weren't replaceable, and he had hoped once it was clear who the pharaoh was and who was the teenager, those three friends had come to enjoy his company, too.

But, he thought as he shifted uncomfortably in his pants, he feared that the three of them had changed as much as his partner did. Yami bit his tongue, nervously running a hand through his hair as the line moved forward. Perhaps he was paranoid, but with each waking second he lived on earth, one Yugi Mutou proved that he needed less support and could easily take care of himself.

And Yami was proud of him. Really! He was!

But… Yami sighed, placing his order for simple nachos and apparently, "spicy chicken soft tacos", before leaning back near the cashier and recalling the days where he was simply a spirit; a loner, who helped the little boy he thought was his savior and spent every ounce of his time trying to repay the young one. It was this spice, this ferocity from Yugi Mutou that he would never have that caught Yami's attention, and now he was seeing it used against him.

His first impression of the young boy, the once pharaoh thought grimly as he thanked the flustered girl working the cashier, hadn't been a good one. By instinct, his arrogance carried on despite having no memories of being Atemu, and he refused to believe that some little brat recreated the Millennium Puzzle. Everything was lain out before him, clear and loyal as he decided on just repaying the useless child for granting him a second life and nothing more. With time, Yugi Mutou had become the medicine to all of his aches and loneliness. That smile was what made him happy to do this 'job.' That pure, innocent laugh was what made him tingle.

But Yugi stopped smiling for him. Yugi stopped laughing for him. There wasn't really a 'job' to do, and though Suzuki and his bracelet insisted there was more to their relationship, Yami was beginning to…doubt…himself.

Shaking his head, Yami tucked the change in his back pocket and decided when it was more convenient, he would give the change back to Yu—

"Oh my—"

"Yugi…am I…are we seeing things?!"

"Holy fuck!"

Yami's head shot up from the various, familiar voices and he eyed the three teenagers to have appeared next to Yugi during his absence. A reluctant smile played across his face and he sadly took note of the vibrant smile across Yugi's cheerful face when he was talking to his friends. Anzu, Jonouchi, and Honda.

"It's…it's really you!" Jonouchi gawked, immediately appearing before Yami and comically circling the once pharaoh. He poked and probed, eyes never leaving and Yami silently compared him to a bloodhound. "That's…really you, right? Oh my god, it's _you_, Atemu!"

"Yami," he said while involuntarily cringing. Yami's eyes drifted over to Yugi, who spared him a glance before tearing away, smile disappearing while he apparently found something more interesting in the tree most people stuck their gum in. "Please, just call me Yami."

Honda grinned, appearing next to the regal teenager, but unlike his best friend, did not pick and pry him like a piece of meat. Instead, he extended a hand which Yami obediently shook. "No way! How are you…what are you _doing_ here, Yami?"

"It's a long story," the once pharaoh whispered, eyes following Yugi's gaze. Heart sinking at the sudden apathy, he forced a hesitant smile and shrugged before dumping the bag from Taco Bell in Jonouchi's hand. "I'll be going to school with you guys on Monday."

"Really? That's _awesome_! And _this_ is awesome too!" Jonouchi happily grinned and buried his hand in the bag of goodies without second guessing Yami's decision. "So so…you hanging out with us then, Yami?"

The smile across Yami's face broadened and he slowly nodded, eyes falling to the ground. Neither of them had changed. "If you will let me."

Both exchanged looks of surprise. Honda arched an eyebrow and tucked both hands in his pockets. "Of course we would, Yami. Is there any reason why we wouldn't?"

"Besides," Jonouchi smirked and rattled an arm around Yami's neck. "You got away the first time without dueling me first. You aren't gonna get away the second time, buddy."

"We'll see about that," Yami grinned. Unfortunately for Jonouchi, Yami had yet to touch a Duel Monster's card unless he was selling it to someone else. Eventually the other duelist would distract himself in the tacos and their "sacred duel" would be put off until a later day when Yami would be able to build a new deck. After all, he warily eyed Yugi and bit his lip. His deck and everything about it had gone back to Yugi, so unless he had the nerve to confront the younger boy, he would be unable to get that deck back.

Jonouchi and Honda began chattering about nothing in particular while following Yugi and Anzu. Yami went along as well, unsure of what to do and eyed Anzu. She smiled at him and waved, but his eyes were glued on how her hand would occasionally bump into Yugi's.

"It's good to see you," she said gently.

Yami slowly nodded and gestured to her hair. "Your hair got longer."

"Yes I'm uh, growing out." Her cheeks flared and Anzu ran a hand through her hair before a giddy smile fell across her lips. She looked away and shrugged. "It helps with appeal when it comes to dancing and…people seem to like it."

Her eyes had fallen to Yugi. The once pharaoh smiled softly. "It looks nice."

She smiled back broadly. "Thank you."

Before he had another say in the matter, Jonouchi had swooped in into another conversation and it almost went unnoticeable that Yugi's hand became intertwined with Anzu's. Yami occasionally nodded to most of Jonouchi's statements, eyes never tearing away from Yugi. His bracelet gently glistened and he bit his lip. The smile across Yugi's face…something he hadn't seen in ten months and nineteen days. The last one he'd seen was right before he left and into the afterlife.

So many sensations in that one little smile, but not directed at him. But Yami had to make this work—if not for his new life with the people he knew the most, for a new life altogether. This was his last shot and if he did what Jonouchi always said—"screw things over"—then never again would he be looked at admirably. That being said, he couldn't let his emotions run wild and let his anger and frustration possess his better judgment.

And Yami definitely did not let his heart sink when Yugi's smile confidently broadened as he stood at the tips of his toes and kissed Anzu.

--

**Author's Note: **

Well, that's a twist. Peachshipping over Revolutionshipping. Hum hum hum, so we're three chapters in and according to Yami, he has a deadline of four days to find one of seven traits he likes about Yugi Mutou. And he's failing. Poor guy. Anyway, thanks for all of the reviews and support; can't wait to hear what you guys think about this chapter! That being said….reviews would be nice! C:


	4. Chapter 4

--

_**four.**_

_**--**_

He'd been under the glare of cameras for nearly all his spirit-life. Thousands of eyes would always watch him—_probe_ him with their eyes—and try to find some deeper meaning. Or just stare at his chest and rather petite stature despite the authority he held high when behind a duel disk. Obviously, with millions—_billions—of _people watching him because he was one of the most renown duelists on the planet, this should have been a piece of…pie? What on earth was that expression, again? Was his slang really that iffy since his last visit?

Yami had never been so mortified in his life.

At first, he thought of it as nothing, the night before being simple as Sugoroku explained the depths of what he needed to know in order to come to Domino High, then lecture him for not spending the five-hundred dollars reserved on the credit card now entitled to the once pharaoh. Sometime during the night while he rid himself of some unknown jetlag, Yami also reminded himself that school was probably no different than when he was possessing Yugi.

'cept that was it. He was possessing Yugi.

Now, own heart pounding and exploding in his chest, Yami stood there, wiping nervous sweat from his brow for the umpteenth time as forty-two eyes picked his form and decided what to do with it. Yami's hands clutched the grungy old backpack recycled from Yugi's elementary days and he bit his lip, eyes landing to the little charms wrapped delicately around his wrist.

"Alright. Would you write your name on the board, Sennen?"

Right! Right. …how did you spell "Yami" again? In an anxious frantic, he turned around, fingers wrapping around the stubby piece of chalk and jotted down what he could remember of his name.

Then heard snickering. Snapping out of his worried daze, Yami looked behind him, many boys grinning their butts off and girls turning to no one other than his aibou. The teacher readjusted her glasses, not as amused as the many teenagers, but obviously found _something_ funny. It was when Yugi stared at him, softly smacking his face and rolling his eyes did the once pharaoh realize (ever-so frustratingly) that he did something wrong and looked back to the blackboard.

_Yuugi Mutou._ Written in very neat, very precise kanji and katakana that the way he'd gone about it, Yami seemed sure of himself that was his name. Cheeks burning in realization, his gaze fell to the ground and he wiped the board off with his hand before humiliatingly scribing the name, _Yami Sennen_ in large, bold letters.

"Assuming this means you are very aware of who one of my students is, would you prefer sitting next to him?"

"Yes." Yami immediately perked, smile of relief stringing happily across his lips. Maybe this turned out good, then. Maybe his screwing up writing his own name could have resulted in…in being around Yugi for the rest of the day! And despite their little to no arguments over the weekend (Yugi had been out with his friends and Yami had to tend to the store), being next to Yugi in class would give them a better advantage in talking to one another. His mind became enticed with the many fantasies of going off with the hikari, studying together…walking home together…bathing together… "I would love that."

"Very well then." The teacher pulled out a chart and scribbled down new seating arrangements. Yami's eyes wandered to the enthused teenagers. They were different from the year before, when Yugi was but a second year. Biting his lip, he noted that although half of the classmates were familiar, others were not. Otogi was among the lot, sitting in the far left corner flirting with some girl…who was staring at him.

A lot of girls were staring at him, actually. Paranoia growing with the possibility that they could have been staring at his sweaty figure, Yami shifted his feet and forced his gaze elsewhere. Yugi, Anzu, Jonouchi, and Honda. They all sat in a huddle in the middle of the room, Jonouchi eying him with the fresh loss in arcade games from Saturday still on his mind. On the other hand, Honda was passing notes to that one girl, Miho, as Anzu and Yugi were…holding hands. He swallowed the large lump in his throat, forcing the jealousy down with it.

Anzu and Yugi were together.

According to Jonouchi, a month after his departure, Yugi finally gathered the nerve to ask their female friend out and she happily accepted. Had it been as long as Yami was assuming, the couple had been dating for the last nine months and twenty-one days. His hand automatically clasped the bracelet laced around his wrist and he only stared, watching as Yugi softly giggled and blushed to one of her jokes. They…looked nice together. Too nice.

"Anzu."

Immediately, he snapped out of it and caught the gaze of a still overly-amused teacher. Anzu turned a bright shade of red, hand tearing away from her boyfriend's as she nervously smiled and answered. "Yes?"

With a knowing arch of the eyebrow, their teacher gestured to an empty desk in the far off corner near the door and marked something off on the clipboard. "Please move to the seat over here. I suppose with whatever relationship Yami has with Yugi, this can get rid of the problem of your…puppy love."

They both flushed red. Yami scratched his palm, looking back and forth between the both of them. Anzu awkwardly offered him a smile, murmuring something to a crestfallen Yugi before gathering her things and doing as she was told. In return, Yami strutted down the aisle, hoping no one could smell the stench of fear in his arm pits and exchanged looks with his female friend. She blushed, obviously embarrassed about the predicament and cast a saddened look to her beau.

"Sorry," Yami whispered when they crossed paths.

"It's fine." Anzu sheepishly smiled, squeezing Yami's shoulder in reassurance before leaving.

That was good news. With a better smile, he shed the backpack off his shoulders, slinging it over his chair and looked to his aibou from the corner of his eye. "Looks like we will have to share books."

Yugi had been in a heartbroken daze. Eyes childishly widened and lower lip pulled into an adorable pout, he watched as his girlfriend sauntered off to the front of the room without a care in the world. Perhaps with a _bit _of discomfort when Anzu put his hand on Yami's shoulder, but other than that, he seemed crushed. Finally, the young teenager snapped out of it.

"You have to use your own," Yugi muttered, pulling out his math book. Yami did the same, staring at the new, shiny cover compared to the hikari's. "And Ate…Yami?"

"Yes?" Eyes widening at the first instant Yugi had used his name, he couldn't help but smile, bracelet tingling against his wrist as the smaller's voice brought shivers to his ear after hearing that one foreign word.

"Don't use my name again. We're different people." That being said, Yugi looked away, chin resting against his palm and out the window.

Oh. Right. Yami looked down, the flip of pages in the text book nauseating to his ears. Logically, Yugi probably only used his preferred name in order to prevent attention from arising. Then again, he thought with a bit of annoyance as he caught the third girl staring at him before quickly turning away, preventing attention was already inevitable.

He'd gotten so used to be referred as Yugi for years that it had become a second nature to him. They'd been a part of each other, even before the Millennium Puzzle was solved. What drew the young eight-year-old to the beautiful box hidden behind Kame Gameshop's glass shelves was a virgin bond ready to be unraveled and for the years following, his aibou took that into account, fascinated by what could be hidden in a troubling enigma. Yami and Yugi. Those were his names. Not…not Atemu.

Uncomfortably turning the page in his book, Yami was aware he had barely passed the entrance exam in order to qualify for Domino High, going about only by lucky guessing. So many formulas; scientific terminology or stuff that although was history for current day Japan, was in a way still the future for Pharaoh Atemu. And he was _not_ the pharaoh. Yami skimmed each page, taking every word into account before turning to another.

The teacher made little effort to call on him, no doubt seeing that Yami Sennen was a "poor student" (the minimum requirements to be accepted into Domino High being 60 points out of 100; Yami passing the test 32 out of 100 and the thirty-points extra credit question on what animal was most sacred in Ancient Egypt), and he fortunately learned all he needed to about logarithms, statistics, sine, cosine, and tangents in the little forty-two minutes that made up their math class.

"Teacher." Yami's hand burst into the air two minutes before class would end. All eyes were on him for the first time in thirty minutes and he closed the back cover of the book. "Would the formula to be used to graph the equation be x-squared over h-squared minus y-squared over k-squared equals one? Otherwise known as the formula to graph hyperbolas?"

The new piece of chalk fell from her fingers and broke in three intricate pieces against the floor. Her mouth plunged open and Yami stared expectantly, reanalyzing the formula on the board and worried over whether or not his analysis was false.

"Is it?" he repeated.

Jonouchi nudged him the arm. "Dude," he whispered, "she's had that problem on the board all semester! We haven't even gotten to that lesson yet."

Yami frowned. "But it was in the book. Shouldn't we learn it if it's in the book?"

"Not _everything_ we learn comes straight from the book." Yami conveniently turned around in time to see the irritation written across his light's face as Yugi pouted, eyes falling to his own text book, and resisted temptation to glare.

He'd done something wrong. Yami's eyes widened and he ran over all of the possible scenarios and what he could have possibly done to get…to get Yugi to hate him!

"So although you may look alike and seem to have a fetish for his name—" Yami failed to miss Yugi pressing a palm to his face and annoyance teeming out of pink ears. The teacher continued, "--it seems that you also have better brains. How interesting."

"We don't look _that_ much alike," spoke Yugi softly. Eyebrows furrowing, his gaze fell to the wooden desk. As the bell rang, he gathered his things and before Yami had the chance to talk to his aibou, the other boy bolted to his girlfriend and they left the classroom together as a pair.

That was not…pleasant. Yami sighed, fingers wrapping delicately around the string of his and looked between the remainders of Yugi's friends who watched the trail the couple had left behind. Otogi appeared by Honda's side, grin set across his face as he offered a hand for the once pharaoh.

"It would figure you didn't tell anyone you're back. Glad to see you, buddy." With a gentle smirk, he groped the small dice moving in and out of his fingers at a graceful speed. Yami nodded, observing this motion. "So what are your—"

"Yami!" Turning his head, the once pharaoh's eyes came in contact with a strange girl. Red flourished across her cheeks and she giddily ran up before halting in front of him. With an anxious smile, she wagged back and forth, hands curling the blue skirt signature to Domino High's school uniform. "U-Um…hi…! My name is Tsume! You're _really_ good at math!"

"Math is easy." Yami's lips pulled into a lopsided frown. Unfortunately, that was. If he continued where he was at, the regal teenager was going to end up upstaging Yugi in just about everything and he certainly did not want that. …he thought. If he was going to be known at school for something, perhaps he needed to stay where he was at.

The girl, Tsume, only turned a darker shade of red and her smile disturbed him. "I'm _really_ bad at math. Do you think you could help me since you're so good?"

"Certainly you could get a tutor or something." Flattered, Yami blinked as he realized this was the first time he'd meddled with something that hadn't been taken away from him, like the mop, broom, spoon, or ladle. With Tsume's genuine smile, she looked at him with large eyes that reminded him of the days Yugi would beg him to do something rigorous and utterly cutesy. He wouldn't have said no to _aibou._ Taking that into consideration as well, Yami rubbed his chin and nodded. "I suppose so."

"Really?!" She happily squealed and yanked his hand. Before Yami had the chance to protest, seven digits were marked in ink on the palm of his hand. He stared at it, disregarding Tsume's happy dance before she left the room.

That being said, he looked at the many smudges to the numbers he assumed were a four, a five, and a seven. It reeked with the stench of Sharpie and he had a feeling it would not come off any time soon.

His attention was taken when Jonouchi whistled, hands stuffed in his pockets. The blond's lips pulled into an impressive smirk. "Looks like you got hit on, Yami."

"Lies." Yami arched an eyebrow, concernedly attempting to rub the numbers off the palm of his hand, but failed to. "She just wanted help with her math homework."

"_Right._" Jonouchi snickered, slowly walking off. Honda and Otogi followed without word and Yami took it as his cue to go after them. Once caught up, he caught the jingle his blond friend was humming over and over again. "Math, Yami. I know some math. Add the bed, subtract the clothes, divide the legs and multiply! Add the bed, subtract the clothes, divide the legs and multiply! Add the bed, subtract the clothes, divide her legs, and multiply!"

Yami frowned. "That is not the order of operations, Jonouchi, nor is that a proper mathematical formula. If _you_ need tutoring, I can help you as well."

Honda and Otogi snorted. That being said, the once pharaoh looked back and forth as Jonouchi immediately shut up. His brown eyes narrowed suspiciously and he bent down to the pharaoh's height. "'Snot _supposed_ to be a mathe…mathe….mat…cal….s'not spose to be a formula at all! Yami, that's how you get _laid._"

_Laid_? Scratching his head, Yami ran through the many slang words that Jonouchi had taught him over the years. Certainly 'laid' had been one of them, but the meaning was escaping his mind at the moment.

"Alright, Yami." Honda slung an arm around him and Yami looked up, curiosity teeming in his eyes. "Let's think about this in Ancient Egyptian terms. When you like a girl, what did you do for them?"

Like a girl? Dark red eyes blinked and his gaze fell to the floor. Memories came flooding back of the ancient times, where Atemu's love life came into play and…he couldn't place his fingers on it. "My best friend," he concluded. "Mana. I love her as a sister."

Otogi made a whiny sound that reminded Yami quite a bit like a buzzer. "AAAANH. Yami, when you were a pharaoh, didn't you stare at women a lot?"

Yes. Cheeks flaring, Yami placed a hand over his lips to push away such vulgar thoughts, but with the steady curiosity and amusement bubbling from all three pairs of eyes, he supposed there was no other choice. "I…," he quietly muttered, "had sex with them."

They all paused. Honda stared, mouth agape before going, "You mean _imagine_ have sex with them, right?"

"I always asked. They always eagerly accepted." Yami felt a shiver run up his spine, recalling so many sensual touches, picking and biting at strangers who he didn't know the name of because they were either pleasure slaves or harlots. They relieved his frustrations so _he_ didn't have to, but each thrust and the multiple cries seemed so foreign in his ears. He hugged himself, suddenly feeling violated and in a foreign body.

Immediately, the boys noticed the discomfort contorting his face. Jonouchi stood in front of him, hands on his hips and arched a curios eyebrow. "So did you love any of the girls?"

"No." Yami resisted the urge to clasp a hand over his mouth, mentally slapping himself for the lapse of calmness. He'd gotten so panicky on the answer that his patience ran thin and paranoia struck between his joints. Love was a perplex subject. And when that was the subject in Yami's mind, his mind automatically slipped to one person in particular, who was currently out of the market. "But that was my life three thousand years ago. I find it hard to believe that any love from my past life would transcend to this lifetime."

"If you loved someone, Yami, what kind of traits would you want in them?" Jonouchi arched a mischievous eyebrow.

"What kind of traits?" Shrugging, Yami's eyes fell to his boots and fingers laced around each charm of bracelet. No one had yet to notice it and the less, the better. He'd been treating the whole ordeal like a serious life or death game, placing deadlines and calculating what and where he needed to talk to Yugi in order to get all of these charms, but there was no use. His first deadline was up yesterday, and it was hard to keep his aibou in one room to talk about anything.

"Charming," he whispered. Yami's fingers pushed under the string and played with the dainty jewelry. "Sweet. Gentle and shy, but not afraid to assert his opinion if he believed in something enough. Playful. Determined. And…loyal."

Those were the seven traits he fell in love with in one Yugi Mutou. He loved the charming smile that had the keen ability to make _any_ friends. He adored the sweet giggles that were as sugary as chocolate that Yugi would erupt in when he found something funny. His gentle heart. His boldness—willingness to stand up to even Yami when the once pharaoh did something arrogant. But his heart had been taken by the mischief the Mutou boy was able to cause and the loyalty built in the teen's DNA even when Yami's outright answer was a 'no.'

Wait. No. Yami shook the thoughts of his head, strictly reminding himself of his promise. His emotions could not run wild on this one, and having an attachment to the Yugi he'd left but not the Yugi he returned to would only prove faulty. False. Ra and Set would have his head for such actions and he had no time to waste. He…he…

"I have to go," he murmured. Yami's eyes fell to his boots and he rushed off, knowing by heart every classroom in Domino High only because his aibou treaded these very halls for years with Yami strewn around his neck. But things were different now, he reminded himself. Very different.

--

"Not all pharaohs had concubines or pleasure slaves that were just women. There were a handful of men, too." Of course Otogi, the research wiz would know something like that. When neither of the other gentlemen replied, he took this as his cue to continue. "That's not the arrogant pharaoh who kicked my ass over a year ago."

"He was like that while we were at the mall, too." Honda nodded in agreement, hands pressed to his waist and he frowned. "Strange. I know Yami has a tendency to be this reclusive, but it's like without the Puzzle, he's lost all his confidence. What do you think, Jonouchi?"

"Definitely." Brown eyes flickered with concern, a tight frown knit across the blond's face. He watched on as his other best friend sauntered off, lost in his own thoughts and plunged in confusion.

There was a lot of things about the Pharaoh—Pharaoh Atemu, Yami no Yugi, the spirit, and now simply just Yami—that he noticed throughout the years. He supposed like a lot of people, they always _knew_ there was a transformation between his best buddy and best partner. Well…he supposed the "partner" thing wasn't mutual, but there was a type of companionship that differed with Yami than with Yugi.

With Yugi there was always a sense of protection. He knew what his buddy's capabilities and limitations were, and did best to cover up the young Mutou's worst problem: self-confidence. Not enough of it. When Yami first left, Jonouchi's assumption was Yugi would be devastated. Lost. Traumatized. Albeit mean, he missed the days where Yugi would sit there, eyes blank and staring off into space.

Back then it worried Jonouchi about his best friend's condition. He feared the worse, cursing himself that even know he knew what Yugi was going through, he didn't actually _know_ it. And now, he supposed Yugi's parallel self was also having a parallel reaction. He was here. Man, Jonouchi couldn't _believe_ that Yami had come back, and he certainly didn't know how.

With Yami, it was a different story. A confident pharaoh who knew his capabilities and knew his weaknesses, but never spoke of them. Proud, quite possibly a bit on the arrogant side and with one true weakness even Yami himself didn't know he often exploited. Loneliness. Oh yes, Jonouchi _knew_ Yami had Yugi, and Yugi had Yami. They were close; closer than peanut butter and jelly—literally and figuratively.

And he supposed that like any good friend, he should have caught it earlier: the little blank stares he would give to those who ran to him and congratulated _Yugi's_ victory and wished _Yugi_ a good job. After all, Yami had always been a shell to Yugi, and it was natural to feel vulnerable. With later duels and them _regarding_ Yami and Yugi as two different spirits in one body, the pharaoh had apparently grown into his skin. He had gotten _used_ to being Yugi and taken on a third persona. At least… that's what he assumed.

But now, Nameless Pharaoh Atemu wasn't Yugi, and "Yugi" wasn't just a part of the shadows. Yami Sennen, ladies and gents. But despite all that, this _fourth_ identity was probably the least with a shell. As the Pharaoh he was noble and strong. As Yami no Yugi he was confident and assertive. As Yami Sennen…well, not even the name really screamed "Hear me roar." He pitied Yami, really, for embarrassing himself and writing down persona number three's name on the board.

Yami had needs. Yugi was able to fill those voids, becoming the drive for all of these said needs. But now…

"Pharaoh's gone and lost it," he muttered, scratching his cheek. He failed to notice Otogi and Honda whispering back and forth, commenting that for once he was using his "pea-sized" brain. When one first thought of the pharaoh, they thought powerful. Aggressive. From what he'd seen, and now that he analyzed the silence radiating from Yami Saturday afternoon, it was obvious neither of those things would be how you described them. And honestly, what was _up_ with that bracelet?

Taking Otogi's words into account, Jonouchi realized that _Yami_ was devastated. _Yami_ was lost. This was no longer the forceful pharaoh without his memories, nor the overprotective tendencies that drove "Yugi" into protecting Yugi and his loved ones. It was Yugi who sheathed Yami from the modern world, and Yami conveniently came only when Yugi needed him. That being said, they were two different people now. His buddy couldn't protect his partner, and so the pharaoh was lost.

_That_ was certainly a predicament.

"It's really weird, you know?" Otogi said aloud as all three of the continued walking to class. "I mean, before, Yami was a loner because it was Yugi's life and he only interfered when Yugi needed it. Now…I think he's a loner 'cause he's shy or something."

"You may be right." Honda frowned, looking down the path their fourth companion had taken. "I'm worried about him."

Jonouchi nodded in agreement. "I think I'm gonna have a talk with him."

A well-deserved talk, too. The bell rang as all three finally made it to their next classroom. Jonouchi caught sight of red eyes gazing enviously to Anzu and Yugi, who as always, were innocently holding hands. At this point, he wasn't sure whether or not to smile for two friends over the other. It'd taken a whole two months before Yugi and Anzu finally moved into the kissing stage of their relationship, and considering the lack of love bites on either of their necks, he doubted they'd gone any further. The teacher was lecturing him for not going directly to his seat, but when Yami snapped out of his trance and paid attention to the chemistry text book, all of Jonouchi's thoughts only had one theory.

Maybe "Yami Sennen" was in love with a charming, sweet, gentle, shy, playful, and loyal Yugi Mutou.

Possibly. They weren't exactly the same person anymore, Yugi going far in the world and Yami…not. Some strange mojo going on, really. But then again…his thoughts drifted to daunting blue eyes and a rather irritating rich-boy smirk. He flipped the collar of his blazer, thankful his shaggy hair hid his blushing ears.

Stranger things've happened.

--

Atemu was doing it again. He supposed by now, he should have been used to it. Atemu was talented in everything. In _anything._ Atemu could do anything that he set his mind to, and was a darn God, almost. He could manipulate space and time, control things at his whim, and of course was notorious by him and a handful of tight-knit friends for sealing away the evil Zorc and sealing _himself_ away too.

It'd always been like that with Atemu. He was held on a high pedestal, even before knowing that he was the Nameless Pharaoh. He was strong, noble, and brave. Anything he did made a difference to another person's life, but only Yugi really knew of Ya…_Atemu's_ insecurities and what _Atemu_ was capable of.

So there he sat, eyes occasionally glancing up and annoyed by the fact his teacher was impressed that his lookalike understood something right off the bat they hadn't even learned yet. Girls from all around swooned about his intelligence, and little over an hour ago, they were smitten with long, slim legs during gym. Atemu had been asked to join the track, lacrosse, and basketball team. Squeezing Anzu's hand tightly between his fingers, he flipped a book in the strategy guide for the new Pokemon game. His girlfriend looked over, gently smiling before returning to the text book.

One of his biggest pet peeves was when they were compared to each other. Yugi supposed this started right after they returned from the ceremonial duel that was almost a year ago. How many days? How many months? He'd lost count after the fifth month. Frowning into his book, Yugi cursed HeartGold for not having vulpixes. He liked vulpixes.

After the duel, there were still so many expectations of him. When little kids came running up, asking for his autograph, they only whimpered and were disappointed by a passive voice. Yugi wasn't Atemu—he would _never_ be Atemu. He'd given up trying, knowing he could only be himself and although back then he was devastated about not having the pharaoh around, that wasn't him anymore. Yugi grew up.

He did exactly what was expected of him, motivated by the Pharaoh's departure as he remembered all that they'd been through and was learning to break out of his shell. Heck, he was runner-up this year when they were voting for class president!

Atemu taught him how to be brave and determined. The once shy and I'm-trying-to-be-really-angry-at-you-but-you're-not-buying-it Yugi was no longer around, replaced by the confident Yugi Mutou who knew who he was. A smile came to his face and he leaned over, softly kissing Anzu on the cheek before deciding he would settle on a growlithe. Arcanines were cool, he supposed. They had a lot of hair—like Jonouchi.

Looking back up, Yugi bit his lip, feeling insecurity rattle his insides as Atemu gave one of his sweet smiles to a girl who'd come to greet him. Atemu was a natural when it came to talking; able to inspire everyone. He was invincible, able to conquer even the worst evils and duel one heck of a game.

Conveniently, Atemu pulled out a deck of cards from his duel holster (both of which Yugi was sure Atemu was "borrowing") before a confident smirk fell across his lips and Jonouchi challenged him to a duel.

Yugi hadn't dueled since the pharaoh's departure. Ten months and twenty-one days since he picked up a duel monster's card. And of course, that was another difference about them. But being the strong person the pharaoh always was, Yugi knew there wasn't much trouble when it came to Atemu. Keep him away from domestic chores, yes, but other than that, the pharaoh was perfectly fine. Better than fine. Contradicting Yugi's claim of not getting the royal treatment, kind of better than fine.

Obviously.

So obviously, he didn't need to worry about whatever antics Atemu was involved in, because the pharaoh could take matters into his own hands. Obviously. Failing to see the longing in Atemu's eyes, he leaned over to shyly kiss Anzu over the lips and call her beautiful for the billionth time. 'Cause she was.

They now had the space needed away from each other, and Yugi planned to use every inch to make sure the parallels made between him and the pharaoh were kept to a minimum. He wasn't the pharaoh, and the pharaoh wasn't Yugi, despite the mishaps of writing Yugi's name on the board five times in a row.

With a bashful giggle, he found it hard to wipe the smile off his face and grew annoyed when the pharaoh's eyes lingered longer than they should at Anzu. Hoping to make it clear to Atemu that his things weren't the pharaoh's things, he pulled Anzu into another kiss, quipped with passion and he was almost daring enough to use tongue.

"What was that for?" Anzu squeaked.

"Because I love you." Yugi's eyes darted to Atemu, still paranoid from when she had touched his shoulder, and was relieved when Atemu's attention returned to the duel.

He refused to let Atemu take over his life again. They weren't the same person and he could take care of himself. He didn't need Ya—_Atemu_, and Atemu didn't need him.

Obviously.

--

**Author's Note: **

I hope there's some clarity on Yugi's personality. I know he's quite a bit OOC when it comes to Yami, but that's how he's "in character" in the story. With other people he has no problem with, but Yami just seems to push his buttons for some reason. Rough for the pharaoh, huh? And Imma see if I can sneak some puppyshipping into this one. Sounds good, doesn't it? :D Anyway, thank you so much for your support and I hope you guys review!


	5. Chapter 5

_This chapter is dedicated to Natoya, because she is the most epic duck I have ever met. _

--

_**five.**_

--

"Would you go to the dance with me?"

Yami was really behind schedule. Two days had passed since he adjusted to the lifestyle with menacing "school" and he'd already memorized all of his textbooks. Despite the fact he was easily able to recite every single one of the lessons, never forgetting them and knowing each with ease as if each were a new card in his deck, it was apparently looked down upon. According to Jonouchi, anyway. Despite the fact all of his teachers were _delighted_ when he was able to answer a question (and he himself was sure being polite and happy was still modern of this age), the blond deeply suggested not.

During gym, on the other hand, his skills tended to flop. Yami was able to jump walls, deal with swords, daggers, glaives, and had an archer's touch. He held a high power of endurance, handling one of his foes with grace and successfully made his enemy cry for mercy.

Well, he used to be.

Back then, he thought with a quiet groan as he placed the fourth band-aid on his skinned knee, frustration bubbling in the pit of his stomach because of it, he could do all of those things. This new body kept _tripping_ and _stumbling_, and it hurt. Yami had yet to find a sport where he was not injured in one way or another because of his height or lack of physical prowess. Despite how great his _tactics_ were, physics and simple geometry was his enemy if this body lacked muscles. It was like having the mind of an old man in a baby's body.

But at least the band-aids had Pikachus on them. An odd smile fell across his face and he pulled his sleeve up to look at the seven Pikachu bandaids adorning his arm. Aibou was currently going through a phase with Pokemon again, and he'd hoped using the merchandise band-aids would get them in the room together to talk.

After being unable to keep up with his plans for hockey, soccer, basket ball, lacrosse, football, golf, wrestling, high jumping, long jumping, dodgeball, volley ball, Ultimate Frisbee, hurdling, and baseball, it was concluded that the "Sennen kid" had little physical ability and was put on the bench next to Yugi. Who, unfortunately, was his replacement and did ten times better, having been used to the body he'd had for more than seventeen years compared to the one Yami had for less than two weeks.

Fortunately, each coach was astounded by his tactics and methods after spending time analyzing his short-lived teammates, now insisting that he became the new assistant so he could come up with great game plans. His ideas, apparently, were more strategic and advantageous than his light's.

Really though, that didn't mean he still didn't get bruises. He sighed at the fifth paper cut on his pinky finger and wrapped another band-aid over it. Bending it to test its abilities, Yami returned to his tallying. Two days, making a total of eight since he was sent to the mortal realm. Leaning over the counter, his fingers fell over his charmless gold lace. Frustration nipped his self confidence. Unfortunately during those eight days, he had little time to talk to Yugi.

The most that they talked, he thought as his mind drifted to autopilot and restocked the trading cards, would probably be during dinner when Yugi asked him to pass the mashed potatoes. But they were talking, he insisted stubbornly. Scratching his head, the once pharaoh looked at his handiwork, checking thrice just in case he put the girl trading cards in the proper place right next to the boy trading cards. Grandfather Sugoroku said there was no difference, but he was sure there was.

With a triumphant grin, Yami reached for the highest shelf after standing on a stool and pulled down both matching set of Dark Magician and Dark Magician Girl with a large smile spread across his face. "Hello Mahado. Hi, Mana."

Neither replied, of course. Not that he minded. His face glowed with delight as he ravished the fact both his friends lived on somewhere in the world. In the back of his mind, he heard the familiar giggle of his best friend and pulled out a soft cloth to wash them. The game shop only had a few in stock because they were so popular with little kids. Proudly noting that fact, he leaned over, careful not to wrinkle the band-aid placed strategically on his forearm and cleaned Mahado's hat.

"How are you guys doing?" he continued. There was a pause, and he slowly removed the glaive from Dark Magician's grip to clean. From the corner of his eye, the appearance of baby blue beautifully sparkled, radiating with an aura only a spirit could cause.

"_Pharaoh_!"

"Yami," Yami corrected absentmindedly. He picked up the Dark Magician Girl's figurine, taking out her scepter in order to clean as well, and placed it evenly between her fingers. A smile spread across his face, he proceeded with polishing the two round cheeks of her face and noted the resemblance between figurine and the spirit hovering in front of him. The bracelet daintily glowed at his wrist and he thanked the fact he still had control his ba outside of the grasp of the Millennium Puzzle.

Dark Magician Girl's smile gleamed knowingly to the point that it reminded him of Suzuki and Sugoroku's. "_Why_?"

She asked it so innocently that no one would have ever guessed she was making fun of him. In a sisterly way, at least. He shrugged. Fortunately he knew her a lot better than that, even if the friendship was so long ago that his life back then was still just a foreign idea to him. "Because."

"_Because Yugi's the one who came up with that nickname for you, huh?" _

The figurine fell from his fingers and he cursed as it clumsily landed on his toe. He picked it up, unable to meet the gaze of his knowing best friend. He closed them, slowly getting up again and calming his psyche before redoing his method of polishing: head to toe. Or in this case, hat to toe. "What's your point?"

Best friends could be annoying. He felt a pang of drowsiness shoot through his mind and bit his lip. Again, he thought with a bit of irritation, this body lacked the endurance of Atemu or even Yami no Yugi, the other Yugi. He would have to be careful during his summoning, unfortunately. Mana placed an intangible hand over his shoulder and genuinely smiled.

"_You know we all worship Yugi for all he's done for you, right?" _

"It's only natural," Yami quietly insisted. He stopped shining for a moment, gently setting it down for a greatly-needed gulp of water and refused to look her in the eye.

"_We know,"_ she gently responded. From the corner of his eye, he watched as a giggle left her lips and she placed herself genuinely near the cash register. _"Pharaoh—"_

"Yami."

"_Master_," she retaliated_, "we couldn't have asked for a better person to look over you."_

"He wasn't the only one looking out for me," Yami drew casually. He tried best to nonchalantly shrug, but felt discomfort scraping his skin. Despite how casual it sounded coming from his mouth, it wasn't how he felt. Yugi was his everything. Plain and simple. "You and Mahado found me as well."

"_But we're not the ones who named you Yami."_ He paused, taking that into consideration. Yami's gaze fell to the glass surface and he contemplated this statement. It was true. He would have felt comfortable with whatever name Mana or Mahado gave him because of how far their bond transcended, but Yugi was special. Pink fluttered across his cheeks as his essence brushed across that thought.

He'd manifested in Yugi for such a long time, labeled as the dark aura residing in the pure light. No name. Yami no Yugi—the Dark Yugi, but that was it. In order to get on a more intimate basis with their new friendship, Yugi had flipped that phrase, adopting the spirit as Yami, one of his friends and his other self. In his mind for the past…ten months and twenty-three days, 'Atemu' was obsolete. Dead. Just like he was. Or, used to be, anyway. Atemu was a time where Yugi didn't exist.

The pink of his skin meekly bloomed into a dark red. His fingers grew limp and he looked up and onward to the window of people going by in front of him. Unfortunately, that feeling wasn't mutual at the moment. Fumbling with the cloth, Yami grumbled something inaudible and released the power he had over Mana. She whispered a mischievous goodbye and vanished without a trace. The only presence of the Dark Magician Girl would have been the action figure in his hand.

He returned to the shelf where he picked up both figurines, reminding himself with a struggle that he only had twenty-three more days left in the mortal world. If Yami couldn't even keep track of Yugi for than two minutes, how in earth was he going to last a whole month? They may have hung out with the same friends, but Yami's conversations always leaned over to Jonouchi.

"Oh, hi Yami."

"Hello." Yami set them carefully in place and craned his neck. His sight was met with the cause of some of his problems (but he'd never rudely admit it) and the flash of a camera. He grunted, taken off guard and fell from the stool he'd been standing on. "Ah!"

"Yami!"

He collapsed to the ground, bottom first and groaned. That would have been another band-aid he would have to place later, wouldn't it? Rubbing his aching bottom with a bit of a pout, Yami collected his feet and frowned at both figurines that fell along with him. Why on earth hadn't anyone invented something to prevent these little devils from falling? He would have to polish them again!

"Are you alright?" Anzu appeared beside him, hand on his shoulder before she examined the rest of him.

"I'm fine." A sigh leaving his lips, he bent over and picked up the figurines before placing them near the cash register. A small smile played across his face and he turned around to the still-concerned teenager. "And how are you?"

"How are _you_?" She retorted with an eyebrow arched and reluctance teeming from her features. Anzu walked over to him, eyes falling to his nose and examined the Charmander band-aid he placed there. "The baseball hit your nose really hard."

"I miscalculated." Yami shrugged. He rubbed his nose and the caked blood above his lip. "I still caught it."

"You weren't wearing a baseball glove and the ball was going at least sixty-five miles an hour." She arched an eyebrow flatly and a better smile played across his lips. He missed the Anzu who would dote on Yugi for hours on end like a mother hen protecting her nest. Whether she was aware of how she could be or not, he knew she'd make a great mother one day.

Yami curled the hand he'd caught the ball in. He had caught it gracefully, but the impact had been great enough to cause the back of his hand to ram into his nose and have some bad results. It softly ached, but after putting ice on it for two hours, it only pained him when he stretched it. A frown played across his lips. How on earth was he supposed to play duel monsters if his hand was like _this_?

"The coach sent you home early. You were barely conscious." Anzu played both hands on her hips.

"What are you doing here?" Yami thought it best to change the subject and clean both figurines again.

"I'm here for Yugi—shouldn't you take a bath?" The discomfort could easily be identified in her voice. She whipped out a small cloth and began wiping away the blood from the once spirit's upper lip. "That's unhygienic."

"But…" Yami shifted, eyes falling to his band-aids. He shook his head. "I don't want them to fall off during a shower."

"You can put new ones on after you shower," Anzu insisted. She softly laughed and shook her head. "Yami, please? You know how uncomfortable Yugi can be with dirt."

If he wasn't the one playing in it. That being said, Yami slowly nodded in agreement, but was troubled. He'd used up two and a half boxes of band-aids as it was, and he doubted Yugi had the patience to let him use the rest. Then again, it wasn't his fault school was more dangerous than defeating an insane man at Duelist Kingdom.

"Oh, Anzu! There you…are…"

"Aibou." Yami turned around eagerly as he heard the other teenager speak. He perked happily, handkerchief aside and found himself horribly caught off guard. His mouth parted, taking in the sight of his light then closed, speechless.

"Oh, Yugi!" She gasped with delight, tearing away from mothering the once pharaoh and appeared in front of her boyfriend. "You look great!"

Yugi snapped out of his stupor and broke into a smile reserved only for his friends. Yami pulled out of his own daze, scrutinizing every possible part of Yugi, and found his cheeks glowing. He mentally slapped himself, reminded that he couldn't get so swept off his feet by this one boy.

He wore a tuxedo. Even Yami knew that was the formal wear of the modern day, and he wasn't one to complain. The blazer fit snugly across the petite teenager's chest. His pants were long and slimming (and anyone would have thanked the Gods that night that when Yugi grew, so did those pretty legs), ending as shiny shoes adorned his feet, and he struggled with the small bow under his collar. Sugoroku and Suzuki appeared near the banister just as Yugi made his way down to his girlfriend.

Anzu genuinely grinned, helping the bashful teenager with the bow before turning her gaze to both grandfather and mother. "He looks great."

"You're the one who picked out the tux…" Yugi blushed shyly, intertwining a hand with Anzu's and gestured to the camera. "Did you take a picture of the dress you wanted?"

"You and I are going out, remember? All of us are. Jonouchi and Honda will be here in a bit." Anzu comfortably rested her head into Yugi's hair, smile gracing her lips. Yami shifted uncomfortably at his position near the cash register, suddenly reminded of the fact Yugi was already taken.

"Why is aibou all dressed up?" Yami asked curiously.

All eyes turned to him, surprised and having had forgotten he was there. Anzu was the one to speak. She looked over to Yugi, confusion spread across her demeanor. "You didn't tell him?"

Yugi shrugged, smile suddenly fading. He looked to the ground, uninterested and nonchalant. "He's been asked out by just about every girl in the school. I figured that would be hint enough for him."

Every girl in school had been asking him to tutor them. Scratching his head, Yami thought best to feign his stupidity by polishing the figurines again and shrugged. It'd gotten so tiring that Jonouchi told him he could say no. He hadn't wanted to because they were nice and always telling him how sweet and handsome he was, but the other clearly stated that he was going to end up a slave to estrogen if he didn't refuse them.

Estrogen: any of several major female sex hormones produced primarily by the ovarian follicles of female mammals, capable of inducing estrus, developing and maintaining secondary female sex characteristics, and preparing the uterus for the reception of a fertilized egg: used, esp. in synthetic form, as a component of oral contraceptives, in certain cancer treatments, and in other therapies. Courtesy of the dictionary.

Yami paused, wondering how on _earth_ someone could be slave to a female hormone, but had given up understanding everything everyone told him a long time ago. His fingers picked at the small book he bought on his way home from the infirmary. His Slang Book. Unless he understood teenagers and all of their hormones altogether, Yami was a lost cause who clearly needed to understand his surroundings.

"Yami," Suzuki said nicely. "There's a dance coming up at the school. The Prom, you see. It's a really big deal, and you should go."

"He'll have to find an escort now though. The dance is in two days and you'll need to hurry to get tickets." Anzu smiled and wrapped an arm happily around her beau.

"It's Atemu." Yugi's gaze lingered over Yami for quite a while. The pharaoh's innards tingled with glee. "He's got every guy jealous with how many girls come up to him."

"A lot of girls do seem to like me." Yami shrugged nonchalantly. "They think I'm really sweet and tell me how good-looking and funny I am even though I don't even say anything to them." But since the number of girls who asked him for help in every subject known to mankind averaged to about twenty-five girls a day so far, he was beginning to worry about the intelligence of each of the opposite sex. Anzu must have made really good scores, if most of the other girls had no idea what they were doing.

"Not all of the girls," Yugi said tensely. Yami watched from the corner of his eye as the quiet gesture of Yugi squeezing Anzu's hand protectively. He smiled gently and shrugged.

"Not all."

Grandpa returned this knowing glance, the same one held by Yami's best friend and Yugi's mother. "How do you think they look together, Yami?"

How did they look? Yami's eyes drifted back to the little boy who was considered his lookalike. Sweet, sugary violet-magenta eyes. Beautiful, milky skin and honey-fervent bangs that framed his face. Oreo crumbled hair messed in dangerous streaks. There was a word for it, something Jonouchi insisted on him saying to modernize him rather than just _gorgeous_ or _stunning._ The equivalent to captivating. "Drop-dead sexy."

An air of silence quickly passed through them. Yami snapped out of his daze yet again, looking between all of them. Anzu placed a hand over her mouth, cheeks darkening to pink and Yugi squeezing her hand tightly. Grandpa and Suzuki remained unfazed, and he looked to all of them, confused.

"Yami," Sugoroku said casually. "You should really go with someone you know really well."

"The only other girl I really know well is Shizuka." Yami scratched his elbow, careful to find a spot that was not covered by a bandaid and shook his head. Honda and Otogi were _still_ fighting over who could have her. "I will buy a tuxedo, though." Now that he knew what the girls were constantly asking him (he was vaguely aware of a student from his class coming up to him not too long ago and asking something about a dance), he supposed they would finally shut up if he said yes.

"Yami," Suzuki said in a tone that generally was not directed at Yami himself, but he knew Yugi to often recieve, "I don't want you going with any random girl. It's not fair to them, or you."

"But…" His eyes lay delicately on the gold bracelet on his wrist. How could he go enjoy something with someone he would have retrieved the moon for if that very person was already smitten with someone else? "The only other girl I know is Anzu."

"Anzu is going with me."

"Clearly," he bit back, and recoiled. Yugi's eyes widened, interest taken in the tone Yami had just used on him, but the once spirit refused to look him in the eye. Yami pressed a hand to his head, mumbling a quick apology and they were in another quick silence. Yugi muttered something about going to change and had the luxury of leaving. He softly yawned, eyes squeezing shut and forced himself awake. He'd summoned Dark Magician Girl too long; he would need to sleep soon.

"Yami?"

"Yes?" Yami politely looked up, eyes landing on the girl who'd taken his aibou's heart.

"Are you in love with me?"

"No, I'm not." He blinked, taking in the question again and looked at her curiously. Nervousness fluttered away from her features, replaced with something else, more analytical. Forcing a gentle smile, Yami paused for a moment, leaning over the counter to press a hand on her shoulder. The golden lace shined beautifully around his wrist and he quietly demanded that it kept its mouth shut. "I'm happy for you, you know."

Anzu only stared at him. Finally, she bit her lip, softly putting her hand over his and shaking her head. "Yami, I'm really not so—"

"Just tell me one thing," he interrupted, voice sounding chill and brusque. Glancing back to the banister where Sugoroku and Suzuki had vanished up the stairs, Yami looked back at her, suspicion grazing his features. "You certainly are not dating Yugi because of _me_ right?"

"Of course not!" There was no hesitation in her voice. Instead, she was obviously offended, eyes lighting up and anger boiling because of that one simple notion. "Yugi means the world to me, he—"

"I know." Yugi was the one who taught him compassion and patience, after all. Putting a hand on his nose, Yami only smiled again, rubbing his bruised face. It pained him, to know that Yugi hadn't actually reacted when it came to how injured he'd gotten. But he supposed it made sense; after all, Yugi was on the opposing team and Yami wasn't an idiot. It was natural to get into the game.

Guilt surged through his chest. Yami felt his heart sink as he saw the contemplation linger across Anzu's face. Smiling slightly, he reminded himself, _insisted_, he was happy for them. As he rubbed the plastic hair of Dark Magician Girl, Yami knew convincing Yugi otherwise would have been dreadful.

The curtsy of his lips slowly ceased and he watched the figure, troubled. Yugi had had dreams and been in love with Anzu Mazaki ever since she decided to play Monopoly with him instead of Jenga like all of the other kids in the sixth grade.

He'd known immediately after watching his aibou and that longing gaze meant only for Anzu. Yugi's confidence was boosted when others like Rebecca grew in him. Rebecca the first person who loved Yugi and Yugi alone, unlike how both spirit and teenager knew their female friend could be stricken with doubt and hesitation. When Yugi finally gathered the courage to ask her out, Yami had no doubt they became a happy couple right off the bat.

He was proud, really, that Anzu forgot him enough and finally those feelings were completely mutual.

"So," Anzu said sweetly to break their silence, "you're going to the dance, right?"

"Quite possibly," Yami muttered steadily. He focused on polishing Dark Magician's sleeve and readjusted the cosplay stand on the top shelf behind him.

"You should," she continued, arms behind her back. 'I think Jonouchi and Honda are going girl hunting while we shop for tuxes."

"Girl hunting," Yami repeated. His stomach churned at the thought, sensible enough to put both words together and define that phrase. Shaking his head, Yami paled. He wasn't stupid, but it also wasn't a matter of finding girls as it was hiding from them. "This prom, Anzu. Is it a big deal?"

A wistful grin spread across her lips, delight teeming in her features and she eagerly nodded. "Oh, it's a _very_ big deal. Every girl wishes to be queen and have the night of their life. It's a ball that only the seniors get to go to and—"

"Then," Yami shook his head slowly and ran a hand through his hair. "If it is so important to a girl and is as life-changing as you say, don't you think it'd be best to go with someone you've known dearly rather than some random person on the street?"

"Yes," agreed a wholehearted Anzu. She leaned into the other side of the counter and picked up a figurine. "But you're new. I wouldn't expect you to know everyone in our class—"

"Sen is the one with red hair. Renka and Risa are twins. Usage sits by the window and Tsume is single." Yami pulled the figurine out of her grasp and put them on the top shelf, this time careful of where he stood. When he returned, Anzu was staring, surprised. He scratched his elbow again, irritated by how sensitive his new body was. "They always ask me to help them with homework."

He shifted uncomfortably in his position and cast a glance to the floor. Come to think of it, Mari begged for his choker. She was so eccentric, calling him amazing and beautiful, that he felt aweful when saying "no" the first time. Now he regretted saying yes. His neck was cold.

"Yami."

"Yes--?"

"Atemu." Light thuds echoed down the stairs. Yami paused, perking as Yugi came back to view fully dressed in his black pants and shirt. The young teenager halted at the end of the banister, eyes examining quietly. Yami eyed him curiosly and watched as his partner burst into a casual dash to his girlfriend's side.

"Yugi?" Yami asked, confused.

"Yes, uh." Yugi turned his way, one hand wrapped around the oblivious Anzu's waist. "Can I have my deck back, please?"

"Your deck."

"Yes."

"I…I suppose." Yami's hand went to the deck holster strapped delicately around his hips. With hesitation, he pulled out the crisp deck of forty cards and set them on the counter. It was strange watching the load normally looped around his hips immediately light and awkward.

"Thanks." A pause drifted in the air before Yugi continued. "I'm—I'm sorry that I snapped at you."

"Oh." Yami's heart fluttered. His lips pulled into a precious, giddy grin as he looked to the sincere, magenta orbs that shimmered with guilt. "It's fine, aibou."

Clouds replaced the floor beneath the once pharaoh's feet as Yugi awkwardly smiled. He opened his mouth to speak; one hand wrapped securely and tightly around Anzu's fingers, but never got the chance to speak again. The door shot open, ringing in alert of a new customer and revealed both Honda and Jonouchi.

"Yo, Yami! Yugi!" A grin spread across the blond's face and he jumped over the register to wrap an arm around Yami. "So, so?"

"So, what?" Yami arched an eyebrow, confused, and put his polish rag back in the drawer in front of him.

"The girl that took you home!" Honda happily snickered and leaned over the counter, amusement tickling his lips. "Well, Pharaoh? Did you get the _royal treatment_?"

"She…she didn't bow." Yami frowned, head ducking as he recalled slipping in and out of consciousness as the nurse's assistant delightfully volunteered to take him home. At the time he had only irritably nodded, hoping someone would shut up log enough to realize he was falling to the floor. With a bloody nose that thankfully was only bruised instead of broken, someone had held his hand and pulled him across traffic in order to get home. As for the 'royal treatment', there was no possible way she could have known he was the pharaoh. That being said…

"No, buddy. Did you get laid?" Jonouchi gently shook him, eyebrow arched.

"You mean have sex with them." Yami smiled, proud of himself for knowing the definition for the very first time, then shook his head slowly. "No. She brought me home, and I suppose you could say Grandfather Sugoroku and Suzuki 'laid' me in bed."

They silenced. Yami looked between the both of them, then Yugi, who had wandered off with Anzu to another part of the store. Honda softly laughed. "Pharaoh, has anyone ever told you that you can be so…"

"So what?" He arched a curious eyebrow, frowning.

"Yami, buddy." A grin spread across Jonouchi's face and he latched onto the one spirit happily. "It's time to teach you the Art of Getting Some."

--

Lower your expectations. Look approachable. Read body language. Make eye contact and smile a lot. Share information about yourself. Give complete attention. Use body language to hint romantic intentions. Close the deal.

"Are you flirting with me?"

Jonouchi softly pressed a hand to his face, trying to make it as unnoticeable as possible as Yami put down the magazine he'd innocently bought teaching him conversational skills. The pharaoh had been doing so well when the girl first came up to him, smiling and blushing, because he was really just a natural. Proably somewhere in hierarchy-land, he'd been taught manners, always being polite and making eye contact. That being said, Yami was doing a fine job. So was the brunette hovering at their table, who was now blushing as red as the spaghetti sauce served by the store.

She stammered something, and he assumed Yami had taken the time to analyze _her_ actions before initiating flirting. From the corner of his vision, Jonouchi watched Yami's eyebrows knit together, troubled. He sincerely apologized for embarrassing her, saying he would watch his words before she scuttled off. Which was fine, in Jonouchi's opinion. He obnoxiously dumped parmesan cheese all over his pasta and looked to Yami, who was troubled as he returned to the magazine desperately trying to figure out what he was doing wrong.

The girl was a hussy; way down the pyramid fit for the pharaoh. Too much makeup, big-ass boobs, and jiggly thighs.

"Flirting isn't something a _book_ can just teach you, Yami." Jonouchi arched an eyebrow, a half-smile across his face as he gestured to Honda, who was grinning madly as he talked to the girl in the far corner of the restaurant.

Anzu nodded in agreement and she smiled pityingly. "Be yourself."

Yami looked up to her, defeated and shrugged. "I really doubt anyone other than aibou would take it well if I told them I was a three-thousand year old pharaoh."

It took all of his self control and Lady Luck to keep the fork from going down his throat. Jonouchi clutched it violently, gasping for air and resisted the urge to laugh at his friend's misfortune.

"I'm going to pay for the dinner." Yami stood up from his seat.

"Hey, that isn't fair." The blond frowned, shaking his head slowly.

In return, the pharaoh only pulled out his wallet and the two crumpled twenty-dollar bills that stuck out of one of the loose ends. Jonouchi didn't like the way it was the only green he could see in his friend's wallet. That came to a total of forty dollars and the receipt clearly stated $39.48.

"Yami," Anzu said, just as concerned as Jonouchi was. "That isn't all your money, is it?"

"This is my paycheck for the week." Yami nodded, picking up empty and dirty dishes to give to the swooning waitress. "Why?"

"You just found out about Prom. You'll need money for the ticket, too. And a tuxedo." She immediately began digging through her purse and Jonouchi rummaged his pocket for his grimy old wallet.

"Oh." Dark eyes widened before eyebrows wrinkled together, troubled.

"Hey, don't sweat it. We'll pay for it—"

"No." Yami shook his head furiously, backing away before they had the chance to offer him cash. "I just won't go. You all pitched in on Saturday in order for me to have something to eat and I will only refuse if you insist on paying _again._"

"Yami," Jonouchi said, but was too late. His old friend turned around, walking through the hustle and bustle of a busy Wednesday and was up to the cashier with the check in hand. He sighed, rolling his eyes before dipping his head back. "I worry about him."

"Same." Anzu agreed. "He's so…different now."

"Both Yugi and he are different. You would think after over ten months of being separated from each other, they'd be clinging onto each other for dear life." Jonouchi crossed his arms and greeted Honda as the brunet plopped into the chair next to Yami's. Yugi'd gone to the bathroom a little over a minute ago and had yet to come back.

Honda frowned. "Is this about Yami?"

"Always about Yami." Anzu smiled gently, worry in her tone. Jonouchi knew that was a clear sign he wasn't the only one noticing it, and Honda nodded in agreement. From the corner of his eye, he watched as the cashier struck up a conversation with Yami, most likely about duel monsters considering how the pharoah's eyes had lit up, and slumped in his seat.

"Back." Yugi plopped in his seat and smiled.

"Yami's paying for our meal." Jonouchi looked over the dark hedges of his best buddy's hair and smiled a little bit more as Yami grew comfortable with the girl, hands on his hips like they used to be as he struck a noble pose.

"He's doing what?" Honda arched an eyebrow, shoving a hand in his back pocket.

"He's not going to accept your money." Anzu shook her head. "He insisted on paying."

"Oh." Jonouchi's eyes darted from one lookalike to the other. Yugi's eyes fell to the ground and he rested a hand on his cheek, frown strewn across his lips.

"Something wrong?" Honda asked concernedly.

"Nothing," Yugi replied quickly. A bit too quickly. Looking back and forth between his three best friends and realizing they weren't going to take his lie, he sighed and slumped in his seat. "I just wish he'd stop trying to take care of me."

Take care of him? Arching a blond eyebrow, Jonouchi exchanged a look with two of his best friends that'd gone unnoticed by the shorter. He stretched his limbs, eyes returning to Yami, who had been drenched in a cup of coffee supposedly by accident. Anzu muttered something to Yugi in reassurance.

Really, Jonouchi thought warily. It wasn't as much of an ordeal of Yami needing to take care of Yugi as much as it was Yugi needing to take care of Yami.

--

"I'm so, _so_ sorry! P-Please don't tell my boss!"

"No, it's fine." Yami wrinkled his nose to the scent of cold coffee and watched as the girl yanked on his shirt and desperately tried to clean it. Actually, it really wasn't. He wanted to gripe and yell, but it didn't seem proper with the image he'd been trying to create for himself. No longer did he want to be the pharaoh, and in order to project that new image, he wasn't allowed to demand the head of those around him. Yelling meant he had authority over others and certainly right now, he didn't.

The girl, Chika, was a major in physics for college. Yami had gotten overly excited to find another person who was as interested as he was in the subject, and somehow in the process of their talking, Chika had accidentally knocked over a cup of cold coffee and splashed it over his shirt. She squirmed terribly, but he only pulled away, reassuring smile spread across his face.

"It's fine," he repeated. "Thank you for your time." Turning around after grabbing his change, Yami pushed her phone number in the back of his wallet and contemplated whether or not it would have been a smart idea to get a phone. So many girls had given them their number, and he felt awful being unable to thank them. None knew he lacked a phone number, but that certain conversation never came up. But what was he supposed to do, really, when it came to flirting on the phone?

Yami pulled a lock of hair behind his ear, wrinkling his nose at the horrid scent of mocha coffee, and stopped. Had he been flirting with the girl in front of him? Lower expectations. The girl was very pretty—he didn't think there was a possibility of ever finding an ugly girl. She was approachable—he had to give her money. That was a reason why. Her body language was okay. They made eye contact and he had smiled a bit…they shared physics problems and she taught him witty sayings. But there wasn't any romantic intention behind it. Did spilling coffee on him close the deal?

Pressing a hand to his face, a groan left Yami's lips and he softly shook his head. Certainly not. Yawning, he shook his head and reminded himself if he didn't get to sleep soon, he would most likely collapse. Using his ba the way he did wasn't a good idea. A life-sized cutout caught his attention. Dark Magician Girl, Dark Magician, and many other duel monsters. It spoke of a new tournament coming up soon.

He frowned, staring at the image of Dark Magician Girl, who was about as tall as the real Mana. Why couldn't flirting be as easy as dueling? He paused at the thought and blinked. A warm smile came across his lips and he bent over, one hand on the hollow representation of his best friend.

"Mana? Would you go the dance with me?" His expectations weren't low, but she always used to greet him warmly. He looked into the adorably green, vacant eyes and smiled. The cardboard image didn't know a lot about him, but he knew a lot about it and the real Mana knew his biggest secret. Watching the flirtatious pose she put out next to Dark Magician, he knew his tactics would never be romantic, but it should have been enough to close the deal.

There wasn't an actual reply, but Yami could have cared less.

So it was set, he thought eagerly at his successful flirting tactics. Dark Magician Girl would be his date for this 'Prom.'

--

**Author's Note: **

Oh gosh, it's getting so hard to still write Yami in character. xD He keeps going to extremes, and cracks me up, but I hope you guys can bare with it. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and that you enjoy the next one! C: Reviews would be nice!


	6. Chapter 6

_**Six. **_

"Can I talk to you?"

Yami looked away from the small book in his hands, a smile spread across his lips. He'd been sitting there for nearly half an hour, distracting himself with Webster's dictionary as the others went off to try on tuxedos and prom dresses. "Jonouchi. You look positively pulchritudinous."

The blond blinked, staring at his shorter friend in confusion. "I look…what?"

"Pulchritudinous. According to the dictionary, it means 'physically beautiful; comeliness." The smile widened across he pharaoh's faced and Jonouchi barely had the heart to tell him how odd he seemed. Mistaking the blank stare he received for more confusion, Yami continued. "I mean you look very good in that tuxedo. And…pulchritudinous. It's been such a long time and all, so I've yet to find an appropriate…never mind. You wanted to speak with me?"

"Uh. Yeah." Jonouchi slowly blinked, eyes narrowing to the saddened smile remaining across the other's lips. For a moment, he stood there, having to think through hi stupor. The literal look-alike of his best friend was sitting on a bench, lost, like Yugi used to in class when all of them first became friends. It broke his heart, remembering that his child-like best friend had held up a silly game, and shrunk as he assumed neither Honda nor he enjoyed games as much as he did.

That being said, they immediately sat across from him and asked him to explain the rules, even if they couldn't sympathize. So of course, Jonouchi smiled, plopping next to the once spirit and patting him on the back, "No, no. Go on. What were you saying?"

Large eyes stared at him curiously. Yami's smile reappeared and he lowered the book so Jonouchi could see. "Pulchritudinous. I once used that word to describeg my priestess…" His voice wavered gently, trailing off and decaying.

Immediately catching this, Jonouchi swept into surprise from the fact the same, normally confident orbs were blocked, lost and again hesitant, like…Orichalcos. He set a hand on Yami's shoulder, concerned when the shorter's gaze only fell to the bracelet wrapped around his wrist. "You okay, man?"

"Yes," Yami muttered softly, eyes closed. "I…yes."

"You wanna talk about it?" It was rare, really, for either of them to converse with open another. From what he assumed, Yami always acted on Yugi's feelings and instincts instead of his own. Despite that, Jonouchi desperately wondered what it would be like having Yami as a best friend, and only the pharaoh alone. Right now, it seemed as though Yami would have been the type of person he would beat up. Sheepishly grinning at the thought, he ran a hand through his hair.

But he was a different person now. The pharaoh meant so much more to him than that.

Yami was staring at him strangely, as if he'd never spilled his guts before. But then again, Yugi was his outlet; the only thing the pharaoh ad known for the past few years. It shouldn't have been surprising.

"C'mon," Jonouchi hummed with a sing-songy tone, "sharing helps!"

"I…guess." The shorter gently nodded and set the dictionary in his lap. He picked on the Pikachu band-aid resting on his elbow, gaze lowered and sighed. "It…has been different with all of my memories gathered together."

"Oh?' Jonouchi arched an eyebrow. "Whatcha mean by that?"

Yami shrugged, frustration finally passing across a face Jonouchi was used to as smiling for the past few days. "My identity as Atemu. It goes along with what I've asked all of you to call me: Yami. Even though we were searching for my memories for such a long time, I ended up gaining so much more. The me who was Atemu…I can't relate to him at all."

The once spirit ran a hand through his hair, frustration flickering in the core of his eyes. He cast a look to the dictionary in his hand and let it dangle to his side. "I…have these vivid images of my father holding my hand, or…my best friend, Mana, on her birthday, making a present for her. I like those memories. But I also remember other things…beheading a man or seducing a woman who I had absolutely no interest in. I've grown. Watching aibou grow has let me understand my morals, and what I believe in. I…guess, it's bad because now when I wake up, I realize that all my life has passed already."

"But…" Jonouchi murmured, concern flickering in his voice. He leaned over, pressing a hand on Yami's shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly. "It hasn't passed. The Gods gave you a second chance, and right now you're living in it."

He failed to miss Yami instinctively wrap a hand around the chain on his wrist. Jonouchi blinked, taking in this action with much curiosity, but didn't question it. Yami's hand remained there, and they sat there for what seemed like ages as Yami drifted off into space.

"Yami?" Jonouchi finally asked, apprehension bubbling in the pit of his stomach.

"It's nothing." Yami's hand immediately left the bracelet. Jonouchi's eyes lingered for a moment, and he could have sworn that it'd glowed. "I'm sorry. You said you wanted to speak to me about something?"

Again, the blond couldn't help but stare at his friend as the same bracelet was forcefully shoved between Yami's legs and yet to be seen again. Webster's Dictionary peeked out of the pharaoh's—no, the _teenager's_—pocket, and Jonouchi held back a chuckle. Most definitely, he thought. Yami would have most definitely been the type of guy he would have beat up, but he wouldn't. Their friendship meant too much for that, and both Yugi _and_ Yami had changed him for the better.

"It's nothing," concluded Jonouchi. He slapped Yami on the back playfully (though assumed too roughly when Yami grunted and clutched his shoulder with a cringe) and helped him up. "Yami, you know the gang and I will always be here for you, right?"

For a moment, all the once spirit had done was go quiet, eyes falling to the ground.

Jonouchi pressed on. "We're your friends too, Yami. You're stuck with us." Arching a warning eyebrow, a smirk fell across his face and the taller attempted to sling an arm around Yami's shoulders. "Whether you like it or not."

"…Yugi has made it rather clear that he doesn't want me in his life," whispered the shorter quietly.

"Hey, do I look like Yugi?" Smirking, Jonouchi's grip tightened over the other's shoulder and guided him into the Dillard's where Anzu would be trying on her dress. "No, you do. This new life you have, Yami? You don't have to worry about it. We all have your back. Even Yugi—he just doesn't know it yet."

Again, the hesitation fluttered through Yami's tone, but Jonouchi tried best to think little of it. "But…"

"No. No buts." With skill, the blond so-called "mutt" gracefully snatched Webster's Dictionary from Yami's pant pocket and fluttered through it absentmindedly. "So…that one word, Yami. Pulp-readiness or whatever?"

Yami smiled, finally finding relief and actually leaned into Jonouchi's grip. "Pulchritudinous, Jonouchi. You look absolutely Pulchritudinous."

OoOoO

"Why are you sitting over here?"

Yami blinked. Looking up from where he was wading, floating gear aside and feet plunged into water, he was met with an irritated coach. Oblivious to the glare she was giving him, he could only shrug. "I can't swim."

She blinked a few times, surprised by his statement, but Yami could only look down into the water, where his small feet barely met the water, and shiver. It had always been a personal fear of his—drowning. He hated the feel of water around him, even as Atemu. "Are you positive?"

He shifted uncomfortably, eyes flickering with subtle distaste before scooting away from the tall woman. "I don't find the water pleasant, either."

"Sennen, this is gym class." The coach's voice remained stern. She put both hands on her hips, eyebrow arched. "You have to swim."

"I'm sorry then." Yami sighed softly and shook his head. "I don't…" Want to get killed? He could have said that. But staring into the water made the poor once spirit remember how uneasy it made him fee land forget his spine. He had a flashback to when he was little, and although it seemed silly, Atemu had been close to drowning because of his friends' antics with magic. It took him weeks before he was comfortable bathing again, and although minor to Zorc, it was—"I apologize."

He stood up, kicked the water off his feet, and trudged away, mind racing with torturous memories he hated admitting were his own. Yami clung to the bars of the gate leading to the locker room and loudly cursed about being unable to open it. His head hurt, overwhelmed by all thoughts. He'd never experienced the sensation before, with memories overflowing from his days as the Prince. Some Yami recognized, others he couldn't remember to save his life, and it melded together with who he was now, Yami Sennen. The once pharaoh, once _spirit_ was tapping into the fragments of his life that made him bleed.

"_Ah_…" With a blurry success, Yami forced the door open and squeezed his hair. He wasn't Atemu, he was Yami. He wasn't the pharaoh, he was only human. He wasn't…was…is…are…Yami caught his breath, freezing as he finally got to the bench and wrapped his arms around his stomach. He…felt sick. Different words uttered from his lips, from Ancient Egyptian to Basic Japanese.

He puked the peanut butter and jelly sandwich he had for breakfast.

It splattered to the ground, between his feet in a warm mess, and the red-eyed teenager was left, numb from the head down. His fingers wrapped around his sides and he stayed, stuck in a daze with his own vomit. Strangely enough, it was all he needed in order to keep his memories from overtaking him.

Immediately, Yami jumped up from the seat and clumsily fell over until he was in front of a random locker.

"Yami? You okay? You looked pretty jank."

"I'm fine." He moaned a little, irritated with the aftertaste of peanut butter on his tongue. Yami's fingers squeezed his hair, and he wiped away the sweat from his brow. One hand on his stomach, Yami put one foot in front of the other and smiled a little. Perfectly fine.

Jonouchi came into view, and the blond's expression was entirely different from his. He grimaced, eyes focused on the paleness of Yami's face, and then looked to the floor. The grimace worsened. "Did you…"

"It's just a little vomit," Yami assured. His smile widened, and he clenched the flat surface of the locker in order to keep himself propped up. "I can go back out."

"Yams," The blond said with a bit of disgust in his voice, "School policy says that if you upchuck during school, you're going home."

"I've already had too many problems with gym. I doubt I'd be able to get out of school again." Not that he wanted to. This hollow sanctity was also the only way Yami was able to hang out with Yugi 24/7. Every other time he tried to even talk to the boy, Anzu would be on the young teenager's mind. Yami had been hanging out with his aibou's friend more and more, but what part of 'aibou's friends' involved the actual aibou?

Jonouchi caught his frustration immediately. "I think there's more jank about you than barfing man. Spill. Just uh, not literally."

The once pharaoh broke into a small smile. In the span of two days the blond was able to get him to open up more. It was hard to express his feelings, but Jonouchi had become an outlet for him. When others didn't notice how far behind Yami seemed to be, Jonouchi would halt, run all the way back to the once noble, and drag him along like a small child. Not once did he complain.

"The magazine you gave me," Yami said without batting an eyelash. He felt bad for lying, but he was also too scared to tell anyone what his mission was. If he didn't find seven things about Yugi Mutou that were charming and changed his life, Yami would no longer be of this world. He wasn't so sure, but he assumed that telling Jonouchi such a thing would have caused the end of their friendship. And he needed it. Jonouchi was the only person he could open up to because he was probably the closest to him aside from aibou. "It says not to create a reputation for myself. By now I must have a reputation for going to the infirmary so often."

The taller teenager stared at him. He kept the same vacant gaze for more than thirty seconds, and Yami blinked innocently. Even if it _was_ an empty question, he didn't expect an answer at all. These days he was beginning to become irritated, each demeanor he got from his surroundings an implication that something—what was the word? _Utterly stupid. _

"You have to go to the nurse." And of course, Jonouchi avoided the subject.

At that moment, Yami was back on his feet and remembered how weak in the knees he was. They buckled, colliding together with a sickening clack, and Jonouchi grimaced. Stars appeared in the poor once spirit's eyes and he leaned over, suddenly lightheaded.

"Yeah. You need sleep. Like, now." Jonouchi arched a wary eyebrow and caught his friend. Before Yami had the chance to protest, the taller grabbed his entire body and pulled the smaller over his back. "I gotcha, buddy."

If this were ancient Egypt, Atemu would have thought this was embarrassing. A pharaoh was never allowed to be touched unless he requested it, and it seemed all too embarrassing. However at this very moment, Yami could have cared less. His arms fit over Jonouchi's neck awkwardly, and with the width of shoulders in front of him, he was barely able to tie them together.

This was weird.

"You're light enough to do this to and I doubt you'd be able to walk across the pool without falling in. So as weird as you think it is," Jonouchi lightly teased, "you're not allowed to get away with it."

"…Thanks, Jonouchi." Yami sighed softly and buried his face in the other's back. He caught a glance of Yugi and Anzu from the corner of his eye. They stared back, possibly worried, but he was stricken with the horrid reminder of how tired he was both physically and mentally. His brain felt as if it were an empty shell, ridden of the core inside, and his body was as limp as jelly. Or his donut holes. Yami liked donut holes.

His eyes fluttered close, chest pressed sharply against one of Jonouchi's shoulder blades, and sighed. Twenty more days. Ten had passed, and his system wasn't working. Sooner or later, Yami thought as his mind pulsed belligerently from the sight of Yugi embracing the beautiful Anzu, something would have to give.

OoOoO

Yami was already asleep whenever Jonouchi entered the infirmary. He smiled, lying the once pharaoh down in one of the beds before tucking him in like an older brother to his younger sibling. It was weird how after Yami's confession how the blond immediately made it his duty to protect Yami. All of them had always viewed the once spirit as a strong, domineering young man, but even someone like him was still a teenager.

And being a teenager sucked.

Grinning lightly, Jonouchi looked at his handiwork and sighed. Shizuka and Yami were akin. He'd never imagined the young royal to be such a dorky mess, and yes indeedy, the tricolor-haired teenager had developed a reputation involving the nurse of Domino High School. The big-breasted, playboy bunny-worthy nurse, who was a little too close for comfort when it came to teenagers. Yami just happened to be one of the boys that were so appealing that it only seemed logical he and the nurse could be doing…things.

Well, the old Yami, anyway. Yami no Yuugi. The way Yami constantly had to go to the nurse's office whether it be for his kajillion and twenty-second bandaid or some Tylenol, the guy had the striking good looks to sweep any woman off her feet. And man. Rolling his eyes, Jonouchi took that into consideration, remembering that all of the girls he asked to the dance turned him down, in favor for Yami, who "was so considerate of helping _her_ study and smiled a lot."

For such a mischievous young man, Yami Sennen was the epitome of all things geeky. And heck, Jonouchi wouldn't have known what epitome was had it not been from that handy-dandy pocket dictionary.

He rubbed his chin, suddenly uneasy. With a sigh, the pit of his stomach twisted into the lightest gear of envy. _He_ did not know that the King of Games (or did Yugi and Yami share that title? Or did Yugi take it away…? Bah, who knew), but Yami was the only person on the face of this planet, even after the infamous Ceremonial Duel, who could provoke the moronic jackass of a CEO.

That fucktard held Yami on a high pedestal, whether Jonouchi was willing to admit it or not. And he really was jealous about it. Wait, why the hell was he thinking about it at a time like this?

Red scoured his face. Jonouchi examined the teenager he'd taken up as his little brother for the time being, and couldn't help but frown in disapproval. Yugi and Yami were close. And Yami rushed back to the locker room, pale in the face and upchucking like a woodchuck, Yugi hardly noticed. The blond supposed it was a little understanding. Anzu and he never seemed to leave the honeymoon stage of their relationship. If his buddy was happy, then he'd be happy.

Only problem was, that was one buddy. _This_ buddy was sick in the face, pale, and too weak to walk. With a heavy sigh, he came to the realization class was already over and rushed to the locker room in order to change. Afterwards, Jonouchi staggered to the classroom with his mind pressed by how to make Yami feel comfortable. The once pharaoh said himself that he was out of his element. Yami was like every teenager on the face of the Earth: one young adolescent (another word his friend eagerly taught him) who was trying to find a place in the world.

"Where were you?" The teacher demanded without hitch as soon as he entered the classroom.

Jonouchi cracked a grin and nonchalantly shrugged. "Sorry Teach. Yami wasn't feeling well, so I took him to the infirmary."

And of course, their teacher was freaking out about her star pupil. Hot damn, Yami just had all of the girls in the school wrapped around his finger. "Is he okay?"

He caught eye with the student body, and grinned a little as the students looked up from their notebooks. They were at the edge of their seats, just to know what was wrong! "He'll be sleeping there for a while. The nurse doesn't want him to move."

A sharp wolf whistle could be heard, but he couldn't catch who did it. Instead, their teacher sighed, rolled her eyes, and they both knew this class period was going to be full of idiotic silence as she tried to explain logarithms.

Loggie-whatsits. Jonouchi arched an eyebrow as he got to his seat in the back, stretched his limbs, and got ready for a good hour of sleep. Yami could tell him what those things meant later. The royal midget memorized all of his textbooks in one sitting, after all.

Wait, what was this?

Jonouchi blinked, gaze plastered to the amethyst eyes ten minutes after class resumed, which went from intently "studying" the game packet hidden skillfully in his textbook to looking at the empty desk that used to be Anzu's seat and now belonged to Yami. He supposed the boy could have still been holding a grudge for being unable to sit next to his beau (damn, he needed to tally all the words Yami had taught him), but there was a hidden intent in his face. It seemed like ages since Yugi whipped out this gaze.

As in, right-before-and-right-after-the-Ceremonial-Duel kind of gaze, or I'm-not-going-to-leave-my-puzzle-in-the-fire kind of gaze. Yugi continued staring at the desk for most of the class period, so Jonouchi kept staring at him. Supposedly.

Finally, Yugi's eyes tore away, and the young boy tersely tensed, pink at the edges of his ears.

Jonouchi blinked. What was that about?

After the bell rang, Yugi was one of the last ones to leave, and Jonouchi didn't see him for most of lunch.

OoOoO

The nurse told him to take some pills.

Apparently, it was to help with any of the stomach problems Yami had while she was away for her thirty-minute break for lunch. He was groggy when she told him, but after checking both his pulse and forehead, it was decided he was too warm to do any activities, but too normal to go straight home. His throat, however, remained numb and tempted him to dry-heave when he had nothing else to puke up.

He huddled tighter in the covers, experiencing both hot flashes and cold flashes at the same time. Yami pressed his face into the pillow, on several occasions waking up and drifting back off to sleep all in a few minutes. His mind wasn't wrestling to keep memories away, but the overall effect was too much stress for his new body.

Mind of an old man, body of a toddler. He snorted during one of the times he was trying to get back to sleep, and wiped the sweat off his brow. It was frustrating. He'd never gotten sick during his past life as Atemu, and Yami no Yugi was simply a dead spirit. Others his age wouldn't be affected so harshly from simple fatigue or faint so easily. That was something both Atemu _and_ Yami no Yugi would agree on. He was weak. And he didn't like it.

Yami let in a breath and shut his eyes, barely registering the door opening. He fluttered back into dreamland. Working out would have to be the last of his worries. The reason why Yami no Yugi was fit was because Pharaoh Atemu was an active king. He never sat down, broader than most despite his height because he was driven by his need to protect. His new body, however, was pure torture.

Somewhere in his sleep, he supposed he had a dream. His mind had been put into hysteria for hours (or at least, seemed like it) and Yami had yet to come down from his high. The bed beneath him depressed, and a hand worked with his hair until it was out of his face.

He muttered something utter his breath, so incomprehensible that even he couldn't understand it. Something about Mana, Mahado, and all of the others he cared about in his past life, but couldn't fully grasp. The hand from earlier pressed against his dirty forehead, and he was shushed until he was able to calm down.

Who was here? Yami stiffened, paranoid to let down his guard, and curled his fingers into the sheets. The light fingers cupped around his jaw, and carried his face forward until his lips were pressed against a glass. Sizzling could be heard from the liquid, and he sipped it gingerly before choking on it.

The voice shushed him again, but waited for him to calm down before drinking the rest of it.

"Alka Seltzer," muttered a familiar voice. Too familiar.

"Aibou." Yami mumbled. He laughed softly, almost bitterly, before trying to rub the exhaustion out of his eyes. How sick was that? Dreamland wanted to remind him how far away Yugi was from him in reality. He could barely see Yugi from where he sat, and wasn't given the chance as the younger boy pushed him into bed.

"Rest," said dream Yugi. Sweetly, but softly domineering. Just like Yugi always was.

He laughed and obliged. It reminded him of the days his partner would try to get him to calm down and lull his worries. Ten months and…however many days ago. They melded together, feeling like an eternity since the last time he saw his aibou.

Yugi sounded more content when the once pharaoh listened to him. His hand continued, traveling low to the small of Yami's bare back, and the red-eyed teenager shivered. He looked through his feverish flush, raising his head to make eye contact with his aibou. Yugi's only concern was to make him comfortable. And he was.

Now that he thought about it, he was able to actually _touch_ Yugi, if given the chance. He would be able to hold him, and feel the warmth just as he did with each of his light's smiles. Only now it was only in his dreams.

Yami caught a startled Yugi's hand, sparks igniting in the allure of his eyes. "Aibou."

Yugi swallowed softly, but remained unfazed. This wasn't right. Yugi wasn't his. He had no ownership over the other teen, and the only person who did was _Anzu._ Not only would he be betraying the trust of his longtime partner, but he would also ruin the relationship the pair had between each other, and double-cross the woman who helped him discover his identity. This was a sin.

His grip was swatted away, and Yugi leaned over from his seat. They touched foreheads, and Yami felt the other palm his cheek.

"Mou hitori no boku," muttered the other in a soft tenor. When had it gotten so deep?

He had little time to think, as their lips meshed together, light and chaste. Dream Yugi's lips were warm. Heat radiated through his body, igniting everything from his chest to the nails on his toes. It stopped as quickly as it happened, and they parted with parallel gazes. Yugi's hand left his cheek, shyly shoved into one his pockets.

There wasn't a smile, but there wasn't a frown.

"Sleep," Yugi instructed softly. "You need it. And don't forget to take your medicine."

The once pharaoh blinked a few times. He rested his head on the pillow, eyes still on one Yugi Mutou. This Yugi was his Yugi, shy and bashful, but utterly adorable. This was the one he fell in love with. With a soft yawn, he shut his eyes, just as instructed, and dreamed a dream in his dream. "…I love you."

OoOoO

Yugi wasn't looking Anzu in the eye.

Yami first realized this after he got dressed and they were walking home to get ready for the prom tonight. His hand buried into his back pocket where the Dark Magician Girl's card lay. His bracelet tingled, constantly sending shocks through his body, but he ignored it. Yugi, however, he could not ignore. The teenager refused to look at either his girlfriend or partner, and every time he did, red would paint his cheeks.

He didn't question it because Yugi never talked to him. He had a hunch, but wasn't sure how to approach it.

"I had a weird dream when we were in the infirmary." Ah. So that was how.

"Really?" Yugi asked, but didn't sound too interested.

"It involved that funny word. Alka seltzer." The once pharaoh smiled softly. Yugi hadn't budged once, and he'd been hallucinating anyway. Whatever drug Alka Seltzer was, it was strong enough to mess with his brain.

"Cool." The other replied half-heartedly. Yugi shrugged nonchalantly as they got to the front of Kame Game Shop, and twisted his foot. "Take good care of the shop."

"I'm going to the dance. I got my ticket right before I left, aibou." Yami looked at him, surprised Yugi didn't even think he was going.

Violet eyes doubled in size. "Oh. Kay." Yugi shrugged before leaping into the house and rushing up the stairs with a healthy, "I'm home!"

Yami was after him, kindly taking off his shoes before entering the first floor. He only had enough to buy the ticket. An actual tuxedo like he was apparently supposed to wear, however, was something entirely different. All that was left in his wallet was a dollar. He supposed…he supposed it would be alright if he asked to scrounge the couch for pocket change, right?

No one ever needed the money, and the store down the street had a t-shirt that _looked_ like a tuxedo. He liked that better than the many piles of apparel involved with an actual suit, anyway.

"Yami."

"Hm? Suzuki." Yami broke away from his plans and looked up, genuinely surprised as the mother stood in front of him, frown across her lips. "Is something the matter?"

"You've done all of the housework, cleaned all my dishes, attempted cooking dinner, rearranged everything in the game shop and helped my father repair the store counter." And broke three mops, two brooms, an entire jug of bleach, nine spatulas, four pairs of chopsticks, one blender, and eighteen action figures; all the while gaining seven burnt fingers and fifty-six new Pokemon Band-Aids.

"I apologize for breaking many of your things, Suzuki," Yami murmured softly. His eyebrows furrowed guiltily. He'd planned to use his next paycheck to buy her new house appliances, but the blender alone seemed like enough to dry out his source of cash.

"You did a perfectly fine job and never complained."

"It's the least I can do, if you are allowing me to stay."

"Yes, but you've done as much as a maid, and maids get paid." Suzuki laughed softly and shook her head. In her hand she revealed a white envelope, and placed it between Yami's fingers. "And I hear from Dad that you have a date. This isn't a lot of money, but it should be enough to get you a decent tuxedo and a bouquet of flowers for your date."

"That isn't needed," Yami replied automatically. He blinked, suddenly feeling the pit of his stomach boil with panic. He wanted to _help_ the Mutous, not make them pay for anything he did unprofessionally!

"You're either taking it willingly or I'm forcing it upon you." She looked at him teasingly, smiling, before pressing her hands to her hips. "Go ahead, dear. I don't mind it one bit."

"I…I…" She was too stubborn of a woman for him. Yami sighed, thankful that he never married, and broke into a small smile. "Thank you, Suzuki."

"You're welcome." She kissed him affectionately on the forehead before making her way up to the kitchen. "Now get dressed and go tuxedo shopping. The dance starts in four hours, after all."

"Alright." Yami quietly nodded and pressed a hand where she'd kissed him. His mother was the last person to ever do that, and he was the age of four. It was…nice. He shivered as the memories prodded the barrier around his sanity and made his way upstairs. No time for puking. He made a note to pack any Alka Seltzer he could find in the house, and halted on his way to the guest bedroom.

Yugi was rustling through his things.

He knocked on the door lightly, and leaned against the frame once he caught the shorter boy's attention. "Anything the matter?"

"Can't. Find. Anzu's. Corsage!" Yugi wrung his hair in frustration. He paled in the face, shifting back and forth between his feet. "This is bad. Bad, bad, bad. Grandpa gave that money to me _specifically_ to get everything perfect for the prom, and I…I _ruined_ it!"

Yami blinked. "He forgot to give you some money." God, he was lying through his teeth. He hated having to face his aibou and not tell him the truth. Getting the very same envelope Suzuki had given him not too long ago, he held it out in front of Yugi once the teenager turned his way. "He says you've been doing well lately and that he's proud you're trying to make this a good night for Anzu. He wants me to give it to you."

"Seriously?" Yugi broke into a beautiful grin that Yami hadn't seen in what seemed like ages. He ran toward the door, hands held out like a small child, and took the envelope handed to him. "There's enough money in here to rent a limo for us, too!"

"He must be _really_ proud of you." Yami chuckled softly and tentatively reached out to pet the teenager on the head, but denied the action. One step at a time. And right now, Yugi was more concerned with Anzu than he was with Yami.

"This rocks." Yugi grinned again, so giddy that he actually _giggled_, and sighed in relief. "This is…this is _perfect._ Oh gosh, I'll have to thank him, mou hitori no—"

Yami blinked. Yugi had stopped himself, suddenly staring with his face against the envelope. Violet eyes peered up to meet his gaze, stunned, before the door slammed in his face, words no longer exchanged.

He opened his mouth to speak before he finally got it. Did aibou almost call him mou hitori no boku?

Why...yeah. He did. His lips curtsied, suddenly brought into his own high, before Yami made his way to his bedroom. Without that money, he wouldn't be able to get a tuxedo. Yami would have to find his own kind of formal wear.

But that was okay, he thought as he rummaged through his closet. Yami's eyes landed to his glowing bracelet, where one charm dangled beautifully from today's events. It represented one word: _nurture._ Like a mother taking care of her child, or…a friend helping another friend with an upset stomach.

He broke into a small grin and softly laughed, one hand strummed around the Black Magician Girl's card. Six more charms to go.

OoOoO

**Author's Note: **

Well, I took an entire month to update, but it seems to get some of you reviewing. Shall I keep waiting that long and see what happens? :P I kid, I kid. Not much to say, other than the fact this heavily implies Yami's dream was more than just a dream. Anyway, thanks for all of your comments! I have this story planned and packed, but anyone have any requests? I'll be sure to add it if I like it. Or if you're the fiftieth reviewer. Whichever comes first. Huzzah!


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